THE SPARROW IN AMERICA. 45 



as if reluctant to desert entirely the scenes of past asso- 

 ciations, that a few are seized with an irresistible desire 

 to build. While some are most summarily frustrated in 

 any such endeavor, others are not wanting that meet 

 with a due degree of success. I cannot forbear to mention 

 in this connection an incident which happened during 

 the month of June, 1877. A pair of robins visited 

 my lawn, emboldened by the absence of the enemy ; 

 and, being lured by the aspect of the scenery, they al- 

 most instantly set to work to build themselves a home. 

 The summit of a tall and rather dense maple afforded a 

 suitable and retired site. Their advent was unobserved. 

 The almost perfect silence which they maintained whilst 

 engaged in its construction was truly wonderful. Even 

 the keen and vigilant gaze of the sparrow was eluded. 

 The nesting-tree occupied the centre of a grass-plot, and 

 stood but fifteen feet from my doorstep. Troops of noisy 

 children whiled away their merry moments beneath its 

 sheltering boughs, without so much as disturbing the 

 busy workers, or catching a glimpse of their quite fa- 

 miliar forms. The chosen site was doubtless the inevi- 

 table result of mature reflection, for, at this point, a 

 cherry tree blended its dark green foliage with that of 

 the red maple. So thickly and intricately were the 

 leaves and branches interlaced, that the most acute 

 vision could not pierce the almost impenetrable net- 

 work. Thus concealed, the nest would have remained 

 unknown, had not a most curious circumstance revealed 

 its presence. The robins could have entered the nest and 

 retired therefrom as often as they chose without being 

 perceived by human or feathered enemies, so artfully 

 was it hidden, and so favorably situated was the tree. 

 But this fancied security was destined to be of short 



