BIRDS AT A SUMMER RESORT. 83 



then varied by the quaint trills just heard. 

 They were marsh wrens — the little chatter- 

 boxes. For half an hour I watched and list- 

 ened, and then ventured to wade out into the 

 deep grass a few yards, the birds scolding still 

 more loudly. 



What was this little green ball in the top 

 of the grass directly before me ? I bent over 

 to examine it more closely. A nest ! Yes, a 

 marsh wren's nest, the first I had ever found. 

 And what kind of a structure do you suppose it 

 was ? A ball about six inches in diameter, the 

 green grass blades above being bent down and 

 deftly spun over the top, so that the dry grass 

 could be seen only by close inspection. And 

 the ball was hollow, though the walls were 

 quite thick. Where would you have looked 

 for the door to the cozy bedroom within ? 

 It was at the side — a small round hole just 

 large enough to admit the bird's body, partly 

 screened by grass stems. 



It was, I think, the most cunning nest I 

 have ever found. How cozily the little madam 

 could sit within on her eggs ! Then the top 

 was so covered with the green grass that 

 it was completely disguised from keen-eyed 

 hawks that may have circled overhead looking 

 for quarry. It was only by an accident that I 



