A WIDOW AND TWINS. 115 



operation, in the course of which she 

 scratched herself with her feet and dressed 

 her feathers with her bill, all the while dart- 

 ing out her long tongue with lightning-like 

 rapidity, as if to moisten her beak, which 

 at other times she cleansed by rubbing it 

 down with her claws or by wiping it upon 

 a twig. In general she paid little atten- 

 tion to me, though she sometimes hovered 

 directly in front of my face, as if trying to 

 stare me out of countenance. One of the 

 most pleasing features of the show was her 

 method of flying into the nest. She ap- 

 proached it, without exception, from the 

 same quarter, and, after an almost imper- 

 ceptible hovering motion, shut her wings 

 and dropped upon the eggs. 



When the young were hatched I re- 

 doubled my attentions. Now I should see 

 her feed them. On the first afternoon I 

 waited a long time for this purpose, the 

 mother conducting herself in her customary 

 manner : now here, now there, preening her 

 plumage, driving away a meddlesome spar- 

 row, probing the florets of a convenient 

 clover-head (an unusual resource, I think), 

 or snatching a morsel from some leaf or twig. 



