184 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 
slipped in, —it was the unique oven-bird’s nest I 
had been hoping to find ever since I was a child. 
In an instant I was on hands and knees peering 
through the mysterious doorway. How interest- 
ing! There lay five exquisite eggs, their irregu- 
lar brown speckles centring in a crown about the 
larger end. What a wonderful builder the little 
creature seemed! His arched roof was lined so 
smoothly with soft dry leaves it suggested a fret- 
work ceiling. What a tiny palace of beauty had 
this golden-crowned queen of the thrushes! What 
mystery that bunch of leaves held! The little 
brown lady might have been sitting at the mouth 
of a fairy cave. 
The next day I found three of the eggs hatched, 
and such absurd-looking nestlings had well been 
taken for bird gnomes. They seemed all mouth 
and eyeball! Small red appendages answered 
for wings, and tufts of gray down on the skin did 
for a coat of feathers. Even when feebly throw- 
ing up their heads and opening their big yellow 
throats for worms, the birds’ eyes were closed so 
fast they had an uncanny appearance. The same 
day I had the good fortune to stumble upon an- 
other nest. This was essentially the same, though 
built more of fine roots. 
The ingenuity of the builders is shown by a 
device which puzzled me greatly in my first nest. 
I made several visits to it, and when the little 
ones had flown, found that the grass around the 
