178 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



ever, and drew it in backwards. Then she attacked 

 another feather, but finding that it came harder 

 than the first, let go her hold and took an easier 

 one. She was not to be daunted, though, and 

 after stowing away the loose one came back for 

 the tight one again, and persevered till she bent 

 it in several places, besides breaking off the tip. 



When she had flown off, I jumped up, ran to 

 the oak, and stuffed the doorway full of feathers. 

 Before I had finished, the family sentinel caught 

 me — I had been in too much of a hurry and lie 

 had heard me walking over the cornstalks. He 

 eyed me suspiciously and gave vent to his disap- 

 proval, but I addressed him in such friendly terms 

 that he soon flew off and talked to his mate reas- 

 suringly, as if he had decided that it was all right 

 after all. After their conversation she came back 

 and made the best of her way right down through 

 the feather-bed ! I went away delighted with 

 her perseverance, and charmed by her confidence 

 and pretty performances. 



The next day I heard the titmouse singing in 

 an elder by the kitchen, and went out to see how 

 the birds acted when gathering their own material. 

 The songster was idly hunting through the 

 branches, singing, while his mate — busy little 

 housewife — was hard at work getting her build- 

 ing stuff. She had something in her beak when I 

 caught sight of her, but in an instant was down on 

 the ground after another bit. Then she flew up 



