XVI. 



THE APPLE-TREE NEST. 



All day long in the elm, on their swaying perches swinging, 

 New-fledged orioles utter their restless, querulous notes. 

 HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD. 



THE little folk let out the secret, as little folk 

 often do, and after they had called attention to 

 it, I was surprised that I had not myself seen 

 the pretty hammock swinging high up in the 

 apple boughs. 



It was, however, in a part of the grounds I 

 did not often visit, partly because the trees 

 close by, which formed a belt across the back of 

 the place, grew so near together that not a 

 breath of air could penetrate, and it was intol- 

 erable in the hot June days, and partly because 

 my appearance there always created a panic. 

 So seldom did a human being visit that neg- 

 lected spot, that the birds did not look for 

 guests, and a general stampede followed the 

 approach of one. 



On the eventful day of my happy discovery I 

 was returning from my daily call upon a blue 

 jay who had set up her home in an apple-tree 



