Virginian Nightingales 105 



I keep the fact of that nest a profound secret, and 

 I determine not to go near it for a week ; at the end 

 of which time, walking quietly past the bush, I can 

 just see the scarlet bill of the hen bird, where the sun- 

 shine, glinting in, catches it. 



If nothing more comes of it, I feel something has 

 been achieved. 



In a Buckinghamshire garden I have seen a 

 Virginian nightingale seated on her nest ! Before she 

 hatched her eggs I found out there were four ; and 

 never did I feel more ornithologically uplifted than 

 when I saw, after a fortnight's incubation, that four 

 young ones were alive and well. 



Neither did I ever feel more despondingly down- 

 hearted than when, after a week's healthy growth on 

 their part, I discovered that some marauding wretch 

 of a rat, or a cat, or a squirrel, had done away with the 

 whole boiling ! (as they say). 



Or was it a jay ? 



Whatever it was, my feelings were those of rage 

 and despair. 



In about a week those plucky birds had com- 

 menced another nest, which I discovered by quiet 

 watching. 



In a less public spot of the shrubbery, and in a 

 securer position, the second nest was built. It was in 

 a holly tree, in a depending branch, a foot or two 

 above one's head — they never seem to build at any 

 great height. 



The laburnums were coming into flower after the 

 hen was steadily sitting, and the male bird used to 



