A DAY IN AN OLD ORCHARD. 137 



for she returned in a few minutes after we left the tree. 

 The five or six white eggs were as smooth as alabaster, 

 resembling fine china, and were in keeping with the 

 beauty of these elegant birds. 



'Not a rod from the front door of the cottage, and 

 near the curbed well, I accidentally found a nest full of 

 young song sparrows just ready to fly. As I stooped 

 down to look at them, three of the five scampered out 

 under the lilac bushes. It is marvelous that this nest 

 has escaped the cats that are so often prowling about 

 the yard in search of just such tid-bits. 



A low, thick thorn bush, surrounded by sweet elder 

 bushes, and overrun with vines, holds the gem of the 

 orchard. A cat-bird had so concealed her nest that I 

 did not see it until the bird fluttered out, almost within 

 reach of my hand. She flew only a few feet away, 

 when the mate, attracted by the disturbance, came still 

 nearer and commenced warbling in the most friendly 

 manner, as if to coax me away from the place. E^either 

 bird uuttered its usual notes of complaint, but one 

 watched anxiously and the other continued his songs 

 with many changes of tunes and attitudes, apparently 

 utterly unconscious that there was any disturbance or 

 danger menacing them. In the nest were four blue- 

 green eggs ; not the green of the plants, nor the blue of 

 the sky, but more like a certain deep color of the sea. 

 The fields of nature hold not another such gem as the 

 egg of this thrush ; of such exquisite material, so per- 

 fect in form, being only " lines of beauty," and a color 

 matchless and indescribable. And then, such a germ 



