102 THAT WITCHING SONG. 



Her first api)earanco to me was on the trunk, 

 the opposite side from her nest, whence she slid, 

 or so it looked, in a series of jerks to her door, 

 paused a few minutes on the step to look sharply 

 at me, and then disappeared, head first, within. 

 Quick as a jack-in-the-box, her head popped out 

 again to see if the spy had moved while she had 

 been out of sight, and finding all serene, she 

 threw herself w ith true feminine energy into her 

 work. The beak-loads she brought to the door 

 and flung out seemed so insufficient that I 

 longed to lend her a broom; but I found she 

 had a better helper than that, a partner. 



When she tired, or thought she had earned a 

 rest, she came out, and flyiug to the limb above 

 the nest, began softly calling. Never was the 

 ventriloquial quality more plainly exhibited. I 

 heard that low "ka! kal ka! ka! kal" long 

 repeated, and I looked with interest in every 

 direction to see the bird appear. For a long 

 time I did not suspect the sly dame so quietly 

 resting on the branch, and when I did it was 

 only by the closest inspection that I discovered 

 the slight jerk of the tail, the almost impercep- 

 tible movement of the beak, that betrayed her. 



Another as well as I heard that call, and he 

 responded. He was exactly like her, with the 

 addition of a pair of black ''mustachios," and it 

 may be she told him that the strange object un- 



