104 Virginian Nightingales 



Controlling my desire to look again the next day, 

 I satisfy myself with the assurance that the Virginians 

 are about. 



There is no doubt the cock bird is, for I hear his 

 loud notes poured forth from a sycamore tree in the 

 thickest part of the shrubbery. 



But two days after my discovery, even the risk of 

 making the birds desert their nest will not keep me 

 from peeping. 



There is no doubt now ; for as I approach, a flash 

 of scarlet shows me the male bird flitting from the 

 yew, and the nest is apparently almost finished. 

 It is not a compact structure, and decidedly frail. 

 The rootlets which composed the foundation are 

 continued for the nest, which is finally lined with 

 dead leaves, amongst which are twined a few black 

 horse hairs. 



Well done, American cousins ! 



There is an idea that strange birds are always 

 mobbed by residents, but I never saw any bird attempt 

 to do so in this case ; yet one would have thought the 

 red coat of the male bird would have attracted so 

 much attention and enmity as red coats of British 

 soldiers would have amongst Boers in the Transvaal. 

 Perhaps owing to the Virginians having been in the 

 pheasantry for some time, the birds of the neighbour- 

 hood had come to know them. 



Two days more and the first egg was laid. A 

 long very oval egg, pale grey, with chocolate-tinted 

 spots, intermixed with small darker grey blotches. 



Now for self-control ! 



