52 THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 



pealed to them at once, and from that moment the 

 building went steadily on. 



Saddled upon this bracket, and well mortared to 

 the stringer, the nest, when finished, was as safe 

 as a castle. And how perfect a thing it was ! Few 

 nests, indeed, combine the solidity, the softness, and 

 the exquisite inside curve of Phcebe's. 



In placing the bracket, I had carelessly nailed it 

 under one of the cracks in the loose board roof. The 

 nest was receiving its first linings when there came 

 a long, hard rain that beat through the crack and 

 soaked the little cradle. This was serious, for a great 

 deal of mud had been worked into the thick founda- 

 tion, and here, in the constant shade, the dampness 

 would be long in drying out. 



The builders saw the mistake, too, and with their 

 great good sense immediately began to remedy it. 

 They built the bottom up thicker, carried the walls 

 over on a slant that brought the outermost point 

 within the line of the crack, then raised them until 

 the cup was as round-rimmed and hollow as the 

 mould of Mrs. Phcebe's breast could make it. 



The outside of the nest, its base, is broad and 

 rough and shapeless enough ; but nothing could be 

 softer and lovelier than the inside, the cradle, and 

 nothing drier, for the slanting walls of the nest shed 

 every drop from the leafy crack above. 



Wet weather followed the heavy rain until long 

 after the nest was finished. The whole structure was 



