PROFESSIONAL FLY-CATCHING 



to give up, when I put my hand into the very last likely 

 clump of small alders in the open, at the edge of a high 

 alder thicket. I almost touched a bird, which darted 

 off in a great fright. Actually it was another Alder 

 Flycatcher's nest, with two eggs, within only a few 

 yards of the one I had missed, situated much as was 

 that one so much so that I would not have believed 

 it the same, only it was on the opposite side of the 

 clump. Just then it began to rain, but I managed to 

 take two photographs of it, and, by driving fast, barely 

 caught my train to return home. 



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