186 THE BIRD OF THE STREET. 



The tree in which took place the murder al- 

 ready narrated was the scene in another sea- 

 son of a curious proceeding. It seemed to be 

 the starting of the young family out in the 

 world for themselves ; and whether it is usual 

 to have so serious a time over that matter and 

 I have not chanced to notice it, or whether the 

 family was specially self-willed, does not ap- 

 pear. The facts are as follows. Attracted to 

 my window by the ordinary sparrow outcry, I 

 saw a motherly-looking hen sparrow in great 

 excitement, blustering, fluttering her wings, and 

 scolding loudly, while four or five sparrowlings, 

 completely feathered and able to fly, seemed to 

 be the objects of her wrath. She rushed after 

 one, making the most hostile demonstrations, 

 but when she came so near as to be dangerous 

 it simply hopped to another branch, not in the 

 least concerned. Turning her attention to a 

 second she pursued it in the same way, and in 

 the same indifferent fashion it avoided her, but 

 did not appear alarmed. 



After long watching of this sort of warfare 

 I concluded it was her own brood, and that, 

 desiring to nest again, she was trying to con- 

 vince them that they must seek a residence for 

 themselves. But plainly, also, the youngsters, 

 accustomed to tender motherly care, could not 

 get into their fluffy brown heads that she could 



