BIRDS'-NESTS. 127 



dracious style. As I approach he ceases to sing^ and, 

 flirting his tail right and left with marked emphasiaj 

 chirps sharply. In a low bush near by, I come upon 

 the object of his solicitude — a thick, compact nest 

 composed largely of dry leaves and fine grass, in 

 which a plain brown bird is sitting upon four pale 

 blue eggs. 



The wonder is, that a bird will leave the apparent 

 security of the tree-tops, to place its nest in the way 

 of the many dangers that walk and crawl upon the 

 ground. There, far up out of reach, sings the bird ; 

 here, not three feet from the ground, are its eggs or 

 helpless young. The truth is, birds are the greatest 

 enemies of birds, and it is with reference to this fact 

 that many of the smaller species build. 



Perhaps the greatest proportion of birds breed 

 along highways. I have known the ruifed grouse to 

 come out of a dense wood and make its nest at the 

 root of a tree within ten paces of the road, where, no 

 doubt, hawks and crows, as well as skunks and foxes, 

 would be less liable to find it out. Traversing remote 

 mountain-roads through dense woods, I have repeat- 

 edly seen the veery, or Wilson's thrush, sitting upon 

 her nest, so near me that I could almost take her from 

 it by stretching out my hand. Birds of prey show 

 none of this confidence in man, and, when locating 

 their nests, avoid rather than seek his haunts. 



In a certain locality in the interior of New York, I 

 know, every season, where I am sure to find a nest or 

 two oi the slate-colored snow-bird. It is under the 



