LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT. 47 



big peaceful bird, she flew to the next tree with- 

 out a word — she evidently knew friends from 

 enemies. I never liked the towhee so well before. 

 But though the blue-gray had nothing to say 

 against her neighbor sitting up in the tree if he 

 chose, her nerves were so unstrung that when she 

 lit in the next tree she cried out "tsang" in an 

 overburdened tone. It sounded so unlike the 

 usual cry of the light-hearted bird, it quite made 

 me sad. 



Whether the poor little gnatcatchers did not 

 recover from this attack upon their home, and took 

 their nest to pieces to put it up elsewhere, as birds 

 sometimes do ; or whether the stealthy wren-tit 

 again crept in like a thief in the night to plunder 

 his neighbor's house, I do not know ; but the next 

 time I went to the oak the nest was demolished. 

 It was a sorry ending for what had promised to 

 be such an interesting and happy home. 



My poor dove's nest had a tragic end, too. 

 What happened I do not know, but one day the 

 body of a poor little pigeon lay on the ground 

 under the nest. My sympathies went out to both 

 mothers, but especially to the gentle dove, now a 

 mourner, indeed. 



