64 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 
her head, and try to make herself invisible, but 
she had too many frights and at last abandoned 
her nest. In a grape-vine on top of a trellis in 
the garden in front of the cottage another chippy 
had built. She seemed to be fearless, never stir- 
ring even when we stood at the foot of the trellis 
and stared at her. 
I found several nests in Norway spruces. One 
was near a farm-house. It was ona bough hidden 
so skillfully under an evergreen twig that I had 
much ado to find it, and there was barely room for 
even the small mother bird to get up to it. But the 
four little dark blue eggs wreathed with purplish 
dots around the larger ends, as they lay clustered 
on their mat of brown rootlets, made a sight to 
repay a longer hunt. With all her care the poor 
mother was not able to conceal her little ones. A 
hungry chipmunk discovered them, and was shot 
by the farmer when it was swallowing the last one 
of the four. 
In summer the chipping birds haunt the piazza, 
coming almost to our feet for crumbs. Last season 
two broods were brought by their mothers, and it 
was diverting to watch them. The mothers drove 
each other about in a scandalous fashion, and, what 
was worse, would not feed each other’s children, 
but turned their backs in the most hard-hearted 
way even when the hungry youngsters ran up in 
front of them and stood with wide open bills teas- 
ing for food. As the babies grew older I suspect 
