58 HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. 



ning in the use of a whip, struck one of these birds, 

 when it came in to feed the young, and killed it. The 

 other three continued the care of the two broods of 

 young birds until they were able to take care of them- 

 selves ; but they may have taken warning by such a 

 brutal breach of confidence and concluded to go else- 

 where hereafter. They will have at least one old friend 

 who will continue to look for their return, and take note 

 of the outcome. 



Last year a pair of chipping birds had a nest in the 

 woodbine on the piazza, the east side of the hotel. It 

 had been a pleasure to sit under the vine and watch 

 the old birds feed the young. I had been with them 

 so much that they paid little more attention to my 

 presence than they did to the old apple tree that stood 

 so near them. I could hardly expect them again this 

 year, as the perils of migration prevent the return of 

 the larger half of the birds that went south in the fall ; 

 but on going to look, I found them building a nest in 

 the same place that they used last year. I think they 

 recognized me as an old acquaintance, for they came 

 with material and arranged it several times while I 

 stood close by watching them. 



The woodbine on the veranda of the summer cottage, 

 not yet occupied, contained two robins' nests, one with 

 three and the other four eggs. Nothing is prettier than 

 these bluish green eggs with their future possibilities. 

 One would be glad to know that they will remain 

 unmolested until the metamorphosis that will make 

 glad the heart of the mother birds. 



