HOME IN THE OLD STONE BRIDGE 145 



penetrate through. Large drops of water 

 were rolling down from the sides and 

 top of the low tunnel through which the 

 small mountain stream passed on its 

 way to the larger river only a few feet 

 away. Some of the drops fell upon the 

 nest itself, but the inside where the five 

 white eggs were concealed was quite 

 dry. It was a wonderful home, built by 

 wonderful birds. 



I well remember, when a boy, how 

 I used to devour all articles dealing 

 with bird life that I could come across. 

 One of these dealt with the Dipper, 

 and I longed to see that water bird 

 more than any other. Twelve years ago 

 I first saw the bird, and it has fascinated 

 me ever since. The nest of which I am 

 writing was on the same stream as the 

 one where I first saw the bird. I have 

 visited this spot every year since, some- 

 times twice and three times in the course 

 of twelve months, for on every opportunity 

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