THE STORY OF A GARDEN 1 39 



following the yellow flash they made 

 among the leaves, I saw that they were 

 building; and when I secured the 

 empty nest in August, it proved to be 

 a dainty thing woven of dry grass, the 

 down of dandelions, cocoons, and cob- 

 webs. 



A robin raised two broods, building 

 a new nest for the second, as the first 

 one was too near the path to suit his 

 partner's nerves. He spent his days 

 in prying earth-worms from the lawn, 

 singing at dawn and twilight so deli- 

 ciously that he furnished one more 

 proof that bird voices, even of the 

 same species, have individual powers 

 of expression, like those of men. 



The fourth bird to build, a red-eyed 

 vireo, was quite shy at first, yet hung 

 the nest over the path, so that when I 

 passed to and fro her ruby eyes were 

 on a level with me. After the eggs 



