CONFESSIONS OF A BIRD'S-NEST 

 HUNTER. 



I am bold to show myself a forward guest. 



SHAKESPEARE. 



LET it be said at the outset that the 

 seeker after bird's-nests is never without 

 plenty of company, of one sort and another. 

 For instance, I was out early one cloudy 

 morning last spring, when I caught sight 

 of a handsome black and white animal 

 nosing his way through the bushes on one 

 side of the path. He had come forth on 

 the same errand as myself ; and I thought 

 at once of the veery's nest, for which I 

 had been looking in vain, but which could 

 not be far from the very spot where my 

 black and white rival was just at this mo- 

 ment standing. I wondered whether he 

 had already found it ; but I did not stay to 

 ask him. In spite of his beauty, and in 

 spite of our evident community of interest, 

 I felt no drawings toward a more intimate 



