XV. 



HOW I HELPED BUILD A NEST. 



They picked out their crack in the oak and 

 began to build without any advice from me, win- 

 ning little gray-crested titmice that they were. 

 Their oak was right behind the ranch-house barn ; 

 I found it by hearing the bird sing there. The 

 little fellow, warmed by his song, flitted up the 

 tree a branch higher after each repetition of his 

 loud cheery tu-whit', tu-whit', tu-whit', tu-whit'. 

 Meanwhile his pretty mate, with bits of stick in 

 her bill, walked down a crack in the oak trunk. 



Thinking she had gone, I went to examine the 

 place. I poked about with a twig but could n't 

 find the nest till, down in the bottom of the crack, 

 I spied a little gray head and a pair of bright 

 eyes looking up at me. The bird started forward 

 as if to dart out, but changed her mind and stayed 

 in while I took a hasty look and fled, more fright- 

 ened than she by the intrusion. 



The titmice had been flying back and forth 

 from the hen-yard with chicken's feathers, and it 

 seemed such slow work for them I thought I 

 would help them. So the next day, when the 

 pair were away, I stuffed a few white feathers 



