EVERY ONE WANTED TO BE ON TOP. 137 



when wrapped in darkness, and all silent except 

 the subdued whisper of the pine, with its 



" Sound of the Sea, 



O mournful tree, 



In thy boughs forever clinging 1 ," 



I knew it could not be surpassed. I was up 

 early, as I said, when the dove was cooing to his 

 mate in the distance, and before human noises 

 had begun, and then I heard the baby cry from 

 the pine-tree, a whispered jay squawk, con- 

 stantly repeated. 



On this day the first nestling mounted the 

 edge of his high nursery, and fluttered his wings 

 when food approached. Every night after that 

 it grew more and more difficult to settle the 

 household in bed, for everybody wanted to be on 

 top ; and no sooner would one arrange himself 

 to his mind than some " under one," not relish- 

 ing his crushed position, would struggle out, step 

 over his brothers and sisters, and take his place 

 on top, and then the whole thing would have to 

 be done over. I think that mamma had often 

 to put a peremptory end to these difficulties by 

 sitting down on them, for frequently it was a 

 very turbulent-looking nest when she calmly 

 placed herself upon it. 



Often, in those days, I wished I could put 

 myself on a level with that little castle in the 

 air, and look into it, filled to the brim with 



