26 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



nest in my presence, but flew to a branch near by 

 and leaned down so far it was a wonder she did n't 

 tip over as she stared anxiously at the hole — a 

 bad way to keep a secret, my little lady ! I thought. 

 When her merry minstrel came, his song again 

 gave her courage and she flew inside, turning in 

 the doorway, however, to look out at me. 



But what with horses grazing under her win- 

 dows and linnets making free with her nest, the 

 poor wren was unsettled in her mind. Possibly it 

 would be wiser to take out her sticks and build 

 elsewhere. She went about looking at vacant 

 rooms and examined one opening in the side of 

 the trunk where I could see only her profile as 

 she hung out of the hole. 



For some time the timid bird would not accept 

 Mountain Billy and me as part of her immediate 

 landscape, and I watched the premises a number 

 of days, getting nothing but my labor for my 

 pains, as far as wrens were concerned. 



One day when she did not come, I thought it 

 was a good chance to get a study of the hum- 

 mingbird's nest ; but alas ! — the delicate little 

 structure hung torn and dangling from the twig, 

 with nothing to tell what had become of the 

 poor little hummers. I moralized sadly upon 

 the mutability of human affairs as I took the tat- 

 tered nest and tied it up in a corner of my hand- 

 kerchief ; for it was all that was left of the little 

 home built with such exquisite care and brooded 

 over so tenderly. 



