more iiitiniatc terms with a wild Ijird after having looked upon the cradle it has 

 built for its yomijj. W'c were in the midst of the woods and X'eerics sang on every 

 side. So I started gaily forth to hunt a nest, but the day ended in failure, as also 

 did the next and tlie next. In desperation I wrote to a very wise gentleman of my 

 acquaintance and asked him Ikiw in the world I was to find a X'eery's nest. 



"It is a simple matter," he wrote, 'if you will keep your eyes ojx^n. The nest 

 is always on the ground or very near it. Look at the foot of trees or stumps, espe- 

 cially in growths of young sprouts, on logs dr stumps, in thick places, or among 

 plants on a steep hillside. Search only in the woods and especially where it is 

 <lamp." 



I read this and fi)Uii(l 1 knew just exactly as much as I did before, for I had 

 seen all this in bird-books over and over again. So I thanked him for his kind- 

 ness and went out into the woods once more. For two or three hours every day for 

 two weeks the search went on. and not the slightest sig^i of a nest could I fuid. 

 Yet the \'eeries had nests, or had had nests, for during this time I came upon no 

 less than fourteen young, as yet scarcely able to fly. All were perched in the 

 bushes a few feet from the ground, and usually one or both of the parents at once 

 discovered me. 



This recalled Miss Florence Mcrriam's sa>ing in her "IJirds of \'illage and 

 Field," that the \'eery is a peculiarly companionable bird to those who live near its 

 haunts. "It will become so tame,'' she tells us, "as to nest close to a house if not 

 disturbed, and when sought in its natural woodland home will meet your friendly 

 advances with confidence, answering your whistle with its own sweet wavering 

 whee-u, till you feci that the woods hold gentle friends to whom you will gladly 

 return." 



The next sunimer found me again in these woods, jirying into every thicket 

 and clump of sprouts where a \'eery might hide, and then at eight o'clock on the 

 morning of June 19 I came upon a bird sitting on her nest. With the greatest 

 caution I withdrew, only to go again the next day. and the day following, hoping 

 to find her away. On the fourth trip, when I peeped into the hiding-place, I found 

 her gone. Drawing the buj^^hcs aside. I advanced and looked into the nest. It was 

 empty. On the ground I found three eggs. They were deep blue, unspotted, and 

 resembled the eggs of a Catbird, but were smaller. Every one had a large section 

 of the shell cut away and there was no sign of its contents. Surely the red squirrel 

 I had frequently seen near by had wrought this mischief — at least, in my disap- 

 pointment, I laid the blame at his door. 



873 



