NESTLINGS OF FOREST AND MARSH 
work, mount the top of the stump, and 
scold, emphasizing every squawk with a 
comical jerk of his entire body. It was 
as though he pumped out the tone. We 
always knew when puss was abroad on the 
lawn by the continuous succession of harsh 
squawks that came from the woodpecker’s 
tree or a roof near by. The old trunk was 
barkless and smooth, with only a forked 
branch at the top some twenty feet from 
the ground, so I am sure he had no reason 
to fear that any wicked feline could reach 
that precious nest. In this home-guarding 
he was invariably assisted by an officious 
English sparrow, who perched on one fork 
of the branch and scolded his loudest with 
important little tail-waggings. When there 
were pretty white eggs in the nest and 
Madam was away for food, the sparrow 
was always to be seen at his post, and 
often seemed to call her back impatiently 
if she lingered. His own babies, hatched 
under the eaves of my nursery, were of 
minor importance. They were even allowed 
172 
