178 IN BIRD LAND. 
fastened to the twigs by the rim, without any support 
below, swinging there like a dainty basket. Pres- 
ently I got my glass on the bird herself, and found her 
to be ared-eyed vireo. ‘That was my first nest of this 
species, and proud enough I was of the discovery. 
The outside of the little cot was prettily ornamented 
with tufts of spider-webs. As usual with this bird, a 
piece of white paper was wrought into the lower 
part of the nest. Three vireo’s eggs and one cow- 
bunting’s lay in the bottom of the cup. 
Every few days I called on the bird, going close 
enough only to see her plainly, without driving her 
off the nest. She made a pretty picture sitting 
there, one fit for an artist’s brush, with her head 
and tail pointing almost straight up, her body grace- 
fully curved to fit the deep little basket, and her 
eyes growing large and wild at her visitor’s approach. 
At length, one day, I felt sure there must be little 
ones in the nest, and so I went very close to her; 
yet she did not fly. Then I moved my hand toward 
her, and finally touched her back before she flitted 
away. A featherless cow-bunting lay in the ham- 
mock, but the vireo’s eggs were not yet hatched. 
A few days later the nest was robbed. Some heart- 
less villain, probably a blue jay, had destroyed all 
the children. I could have wept, so keen was my 
sense of bereavement. 
The cow-buntings imposed a great deal on other 
kind-hearted bird parents that spring. Almost every 
nest contained one or two of this interloper’s eggs, 
and, as if Nature abetted the designs of the parasite, 
