30 THE WOOD-WREN 



wards her through the air, uttering meanwhile 

 a trill of music that was more like a shy caress 

 than a song — had passed away ; henceforth 

 family cares were to be purely and simply 

 business, and suspiciously like irksome drudgery, 

 but for that parental gladness which is the very 

 breath of summer's morning. 



Towards the end of May, six of the seven 

 spotted eggs in the wood-warblers' nest hatched 

 out successfully ; the seventh was addled. The 

 helpless nurslings — of awkward shape, with long 

 neck, long legs, ridiculous little fleshy projections 

 for wings, and, for head, a round ball, with blue- 

 black protuberances where the eyes lay beneath 

 the tight-drawn envelope of the sealed eyelids — 

 squatted, each too weak to move, in the position 

 formerly occupied by the eggs from which they 

 had emerged, on the downy lining of the rain- 

 proof chamber. For some hours the fledglings 

 lay in abject feebleness ; then, with a sudden 

 access of strength, but doubtless utterly un- 

 conscious of the meaning of the action, they 

 craned their necks, like the buds of some strange 

 flower with stiffened stalks, and each barb- 

 shaped beak opened to reveal a cavernous, 

 orange-coloured receptacle for flies. 



Work had commenced in earnest for the parent 

 wood-wrens. Day by day their labours increased 

 as the callow brood grew into vigorous nestlings. 



