drawing each one gently through her 

 beak, and after a second visit to the 

 honeysuckles darted toward the nest. 

 Now, I thought, is the time, if ever, to 

 decide if she is still housekeeping, and 

 following quickly, I saw her standing 

 upon the edge of the silken cradle. 

 Her head moved rapidly from side to 

 side as she regarded its contents, after 

 which she rose lightly in the air, 

 dropped upon the nest with the airy 

 grace of a thistledown, and spread 

 above it the feathered blanket of her 

 soft, warm breast. For several minutes 

 she ignored my presence, drawing her 

 beak across the leaves or springing into 

 the air for a passing insect which was 

 captured and apparently given to her 

 family. Once I detected a "squeak," 

 and her head was instantly thrown to 

 one side in a listening attitude. If it 

 was the note of the mate he did not 

 approach the nest, the thick leaves 

 hiding the tree-top from which the 

 sound proceeded. 



There was a furious wind that night 

 and the warm days were followed by a 

 sudden fall in temperature. 



From that time the nest was de- 

 serted; I could only conjecture that I 

 had presumed too much upon her de- 

 fenselessness, or, that the young, if 

 young there were, were dislodged by 

 the wind. This abandoned homestead 

 was as round and perfect as a new coin 

 just issued from nature's mint, a mar- 

 vel of elegance in which all the instinc- 

 tive gifts of decorative art united. 



There were no visible signs of re- 

 building during the twelve days that 

 followed; casual trips to the honey- 

 suckle, hovering over the flowers like 

 some gorgeous insect with colors scin- 

 tillating in the full sunshine, alone gave 

 evidence of further interest or inten- 

 tion. 



Upon the thirteenth day there was a 

 marked change. Again she flew ex- 

 citedly about the lawn, stopping 

 abruptly to wheel about and dart off in 

 an opposite direction, a vitalized com- 

 plement of the spirit of the trees, ming- 

 ling with and pervading the garden as 

 freely as did the light and air. She 

 threw herself against a summer warbler 

 almost knocking him off his perch and, 

 not content with this treatment, drew 



him from the lawn, which, by the way> 

 was his own harvest field where he had 

 gleaned diligently for several days. 



Then the bird poised before me in 

 mid-air, circled about my head before 

 plunging into an apple tree in whose 

 leafy mazes she disappeared. Just at 

 that moment an accommodating breeze 

 displaced the leaves; there was a flut- 

 ter within, a flash of wings, an unusual 

 agitation that told of something quite 

 beyond the ordinary. As the breeze 

 died away the leaves resumed their 

 place thus preventing all further in- 

 spection. From the parlor windows, 

 fortunately, there was less obstruction, 

 — she was still twisting about, going 

 and returning, dropping within the 

 foliage and going through the most 

 singular antics. 



An opera-glass revealed the mean- 

 ing; she dropped into a half-finished 

 nest that had all this time been directly 

 in range of vision. The tiny tenement 

 was so deftly concealed, blending in 

 color and apparent texture with the 

 bough that held it, and so sheltered by 

 overhanging leaves that it was still 

 difficult to locate a second time. 



With unbounded delight I watched 

 her come and go a dozen times in less 

 than that number of minutes, bringing 

 at each arrival a quantity of vegetable 

 fiber soft as a silken cobweb, adjusted 

 invariably while standing inside the 

 nest and turning completely around 

 several times as if shapmg the interior 

 to her better satisfaction. She reached 

 far over and pulled the fluffy cotton 

 into place, beating it here and jerking 

 it there, sinking her little breast into- 

 and shaping it to fit the soft contours 

 of her body; or, covering the outside 

 with trailing wings, beat them rapidly 

 against the felted foundation which at 

 these times was entirely hidden be- 

 neath their iridescence. Though still 

 unfinished the delicate structure was 

 lichen-decorated, simply perfect so far 

 as it went, in this case defying the 

 assertion that humming birds' nests 

 are always completed before this ornate 

 decoration is added. 



In the succeeding weeks — weeks in 

 which I entertained an angel, not un- 

 awares, her two ways of approach 

 were unvaried; either passing the nest. 



