NESTLINGS OF FOREST AND MARSH 
We knew that somewhere within the 
forest of rushes was his nest, and all our 
interest centred in finding it. Pushing our 
boat as far in as possible, the oars were laid 
down on the mucky, quaking bog, and cau- 
tiously we crept to the snugly hidden home. 
It was a strongly woven, deep structure, 
very like that of the red-wing. The four 
pretty eggs were grayish white covered with 
pale brown speckles. The thinness of the 
middle of the shell warned us that they were 
ready to hatch. On our second visit, six 
days later, four nearly naked birdlings, cov- 
ered with a mere haze of grayish down and 
embryonic pin-feathers, filled the nest. Al- 
though we waited patiently, not one ray of 
sunshine came the whole day long to make 
a photograph possible, and regretfully we 
postponed that pleasure another week. By 
this time it really seemed as if the male bird 
recognized us. He was much annoyed but 
fearless, and only protested mildly when we 
landed among the cat-tails and waded out to 
his nest. The water was so deep and the bog 
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