BIRDS' EGGS 71 



over the dry leaves, and then turns her speckled 

 breast to see if you are following. She walks very 

 prettily, by far the prettiest pedestrian in the woods. 

 But if she thinks you have discovered her secret, 

 she feigns lameness and disability of both legs and 

 wing, to decoy you into the pursuit of her. This is 

 the golden-crowned thrush, or accentor, a strictly 

 wood bird, about the size of a song sparrow, with 

 the dullest of gold upon his crown, but the brightest 

 of songs in his heart. The last nest of this bird I 

 found was while in quest of the pink cypripedium. 

 We suddenly spied a couple of the flowers a few 

 steps from the path along which we were walking, 

 and had stooped to admire them, when out sprang 

 the bird from beside them, doubtless thinking she 

 was the subject of observation instead of the flowers 

 that swung their purple bells but a foot or two above 

 her. But we never should have seen her had she 

 kept her place. She had found a rent in the matted 

 carpet of dry leaves and pine needles that covered 

 the ground, and into this had insinuated her nest, 

 the leaves and needles forming a canopy above it, 

 sloping to the south and west, the source of the more 

 frequent summer rains. 



At about the same time one finds the nest above 

 described, if he were to explore the woods very 

 thoroughly, he might chance upon two curious eggs 

 lying upon the leaves as if dropped there by chance. 

 They are elliptical, both ends of a size, about an inch 

 and a quarter long, of a creamy white spotted with 

 lavender. These are the eggs of the whip- poor- 



