116 THE TAWNY THRUSH'S BROOD. 



I sauntered slowly clown the road, towards the 

 woods, of course; all roads in that charming 

 place led to the woods. 



I had nearly reached the "Sunset Comer," 

 where I had a half -formed intention of resting 

 and then turning back, when my eyes fell upon 

 — but hold I I will not describe it, lest I 

 enlighten one more collector, and aid in the 

 robbery, perhaps the death, of one more bird- 

 mother. Suffice it to say what I saw resembled, 

 though not perfectly, the surroundings of a 

 veery's nest as described in the books. 



Of course there could be no nest there, I 

 thought, yet the ruling passion asserted itself 

 at once. It would at least do no harm to look. 

 I left the path, walked carelessly up to the spot, 

 and looked at it. It seemed empty of life ; but 

 as I gazed, there gradually took form a head, a 

 pair of anxious eyes fixed upon mine, a beak 

 pointed upward, and there was my nest ! almost 

 at my feet. 



Joy and surprise contended within me. I 

 thought not of the mother's anxiety; I stood 

 and stared, absolutely paralyzed with delight. 



But not for long. I remembered my friend 

 who had not foimd the tawny thrush's nest, and 

 with whom I must instantly share my happiness, 

 and carefully marking the locality, not to lose 

 what I had so accidentally found, and might so 



