THE BLUEBIRD 193 



scene in a hurry. He warbles and lifts his wings 

 beseechingly, but shows no anger or disposition to 

 scold and complain like most birds. Indeed, this 

 bird seems incapable of uttering a harsh note, or of 

 doing a spiteful, ill-tempered thing. 



The ground-builders all have some art or device 

 to decoy one away from the nest, affecting lameness, 

 a crippled wing, or a broken back, promising an 

 easy capture if pursued. The tree-builders depend 

 upon concealing the nest or placing it beyond reach. 

 But the bluebird has no art either way, and its nest 

 is easily found. 



About the only enemies the sitting bird or the 

 nest is in danger of are snakes and squirrels. I 

 knew of a farm-boy who was in the habit of putting 

 his hand down into a bluebird's nest and taking out 

 the old bird whenever he came that way. One day 

 he put his hand in, and, feeling something peculiar, 

 withdrew it hastily, when it was instantly followed 

 by the head and neck of an enormous black snake. 

 The boy took to his heels and the snake gave chase, 

 pressing him close till a plowman near by came to 

 the rescue with his ox- whip. 



There never was a happier or more devoted hus- 

 band than the male bluebird is. But among nearly 

 all our familiar birds the serious cares of life seem 

 to devolve almost entirely upon the female. The 

 male is hilarious and demonstrative, the female 

 serious and anxious about her charge. The male is 

 the attendant of the female, following her wherever 

 she goes. He never leads, never directs, but only 



