246 THE MISSEL THRUSH. 



mysterious way. The lady was annoyed at the loss of her finely- 

 knitted cuffs ; the gardener's wife was more so, as she was the 

 responsible person. The day after the disappearance of the last 

 pair the gardener saw a bird fly off with a ribbon from the 

 green. He watched it, saw the nest, climbed up, and, to his 

 great satisfaction, found the two pairs of lost cuffs as well as 

 the ribbon in a missel thrush's nest. His wife was very glad, 

 as it cleared her honesty. Mrs Chambers was still more so, 

 and prized her lost cuffs the more for their singular theft and 

 recovery, and often told the incident. 



To show what can be done in the way of natural history 

 regarding birds' nests and eggs, after seven o'clock at night, in 

 a garden and shrubbery in the old city, on passing through the 

 low hedge between Dr Boyd's glebe (now a nursery), on the way 

 to the garden : " There's a titmouse," said the gardener. " No," 

 I replied, " that's a willow wren ; and from the way she flew 

 up I think her nest is here." On turning up the long grass 

 under the hedge I knocked over a little loose branch, and three 

 small dirty white eggs, with black spots, fell out of a deep, 

 loosely-formed nest, flimsily constructed with dry grass, 

 profusely lined inside with hair. " I never saw such eggs 

 before," he said. " They are the white-throated warbler's or 

 moffat wren's, commonly called the ' muffy-chauther'," I told 

 him. After "further search," as the brethren of the mystic 

 say when searching for the body of Hiram, King of Tyre, 

 another small bird flew out amongst my feet, but although I 

 saw the very place, it was not until a good deal of " further 

 search" that I found her nest at the roots of the hedge, it was 

 so artfully hidden by dried leaves, twigs, and grass. There 

 were seven little eggs in it, white, tinged with pink, and 

 speckled over with red spots. I waited to identify the birds. 

 Both came and alighted on a poplar right above their nest ; 

 thev were willow wrens. This nest was domed, like the kitty 

 wren's, and all covered over with the brown leaves and grass, 

 except the small hole to get in, and so like the colour of the 

 roots amongst which it lay as absolutely to escape detection. 

 Thus, I thought, do birds wisely hide their treasure by selecting 

 materials to suit the colour in which they lie. We passed 

 through the hedge, and just before entering the garden door a 

 wee bird popped out of the ivy at the very side of it as if to 

 tell me that its nest was there ; like the blush on the cheek of 

 modesty telling the secret it was so anxious to hide. But even 

 here, so open and yet so close, it required close inspection to 



