178 A RAINY-DAY TRAMP. 



Then came a day when, on reaching our usual 

 place, we found that an accident had happened. 

 The dainty roof was crushed in, and the poor 

 little egg, for which such loving preparations 

 had been made, lay pathetically on the ground 

 outside the door. My comrade crept carefully 

 up, raised the tiny roof to place, and with deft 

 fingers put a twig under as a prop to hold it, 

 then gently laid the pretty egg in the lace-lined 

 nest. 



The next day we hurried out to see if the bird 

 had resented our clumsy human help. But no ; 

 like the wise little creature she was, she had ac- 

 cepted the goods the gods had provided, and 

 laid a second pearl beside the first. On our 

 next visit, therefore — especially when we heard 

 the gleeful song of her (supposed) mate — we 

 came up with confidence to see our little oven- 

 bird homestead. But, alas! somebody not so 

 loving as we had been there; the two pretty 

 eggs were gone, not a sign of them to be seen, 

 and the nest was deserted. Yet we could not 

 give up a hope that she would return, and day 

 after day our steps turned of themselves to the 

 oven-bird's nook. This rainy day, as a dozen 

 times before, we found the little house still 

 empty, and as before we turned sadly away, 

 when suddenly a new sound broke the stillness. 

 *'Wuk! wuk! wuk! wa-a-a-ah! wa-a-a-ah I " it 



