distract attentiim trum licr Ikhiic." Then it was thai Father Hhtehird also (]iiitted 

 the stump and took a statimi near his spouse. ]^>oih hirds were restless and 

 apj)arentl\' anxious. They moved to another tree only a tew feet distant, evi- 

 dently trying to make us forget all about the stump and the little homesteatl that 

 it held. 



W'e were standing close to a small birch tree. My left hand was against' its 

 tnnik while with my right I was using the field-glass. I took my eyes oft the 

 hhieliinls a nmment and saw that there was a hole in the hirch-tree trinik within 

 an inch of my thumb. I called my companion's attention to it. He laughed, and 

 walking over, looked into the cavity. There, smtggling down into their straw- 

 lined nest, were foin- young hluehirds almost fidly fledged and ap|)arently about 

 ready for their first flight in life. When Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird saw that their 

 liome was discovered, their trouble was great. The madame dropjjed the choice 

 morsel intended for her young and called plaintixcly. We had no intention of 

 harrying that birch-tree home. We backed away from it as quietly and as 

 quicklv as we could, and in a few minutes had the satisfaction of seeing Mrs. 

 Bluebird pay her famil\- a ^■isit. If she had not recovered the grub which she 

 had intended as a bit of lireakfast for her offspring, she had found another ex- 

 ceeding (|uick, for we saw her feed the balses before the bushes shut ofi our view- 

 of the hole in the birch. 



(Jn our way back to breakfast we passed a pigsty. It was just like all other 

 pigstves in the round world. There was plenty of wallowing room and plenty 

 of mud for the porkers. The manager of the English Lake cluli-house had paid 

 a visit to this pen early one morning, and there in the luud, in the very center of 

 the circling pigs, was a cardinal grosbeak, singing his sweet notes to an audience 

 that could do nothing but grunt its approval. Siu'ely this was a literal casting of 

 pearls before swine. 



It was still early morning when we took a boat and jjoled our way tlown the 

 grass-grown inlet toward the sw-eeping Kankakee. As we made our way labo- 

 riouslv along the little waterway we flushed a solitary sandpiper that flew away 

 reluctantly from a choice feeding-ground. Glancing back, I saw the bird return 

 to the spot before we were a dozen yards away. A Baltimore oriole flew over our 

 heads, carrying nesting material. I watched the bird to see where it was going 

 to swing its cradle. It took to a treetop perch, however, and made no movement 

 toward its nesting-place until we were well out of sight. It was Sunday, May 

 19th, and the river was still flowing with nearly even banks. We started down 

 stream letting the current take us almost as it would. We passed a little rift, 

 starting into flight a half-dozen "tip-ups" that circled the prow of our boat and 

 made off ui-i the river. i)eeping complainingly. We reached a patch of timber 

 with plenty of deadwood still standing, but leaning heavily toward the river. 

 There we landed, for we lioped to find the prothonotary warblers building in the 

 rotting stuni]is. We foinid the birds in all the beauty of their orange dress, but 

 it thc\ hail decided on homestead sites they ke|it their secret well. 



472 



