MONSIEUR MISCHIEF 
ries near, and yet one day I saw the father 
bird fly home across the fields carrying a 
bright red raspberry in his beak. I was 
not there to see whether this was given to 
A tilt between a bluebird and a catbird, each four weeks old 
the mother or the nestlings, so do not know 
whether it forms part of an infant’s diet. 
He carried it so that it looked like a red 
thimble on the end of his beak, and could 
be seen a long way off. After this I 
watched for signs of more berries at every 
catbird’s nest, but found none. 
In a hollow fence-post near the catbirds, a 
family of bluebirds were hatched at the same 
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