J \ 



THE TRAGEDIES OF THE NEST37" 89 



nest was in a maple sapling, within a few yards of the 

 little rustic summer-house already referred to. The 

 first attempt of the season, I suspect, had failed in a 

 more secluded place under the hill ; so the pair had 

 come up nearer the house for protection. The male 

 sang in the trees near by for several days before I 

 chanced to see the nest. The very morning I think 

 it was finished, I saw a red squirrel exploring a tree 

 but a few yards away ; he probably knew what the 

 singing meant as well as I did. I did not see the in- 

 side of the nest, for it was almost instantly deserted, 

 the female having probably laid a single egg, which 

 the squirrel had devoured. 



If I were a bird, in building my nest I should fol- 

 low the example of the bobolink, placing it in the 

 midst of a broad meadow, where there was no spear 

 of grass, or flower, or growth unlike another to mark 

 its site. I judge that the bobolink escapes the dan- 

 gers to which I have adverted as few or no other birds 

 do. Unless the mowers come along at an earlier date 

 than she has anticipated, that is, before July 1st, or 

 a skunk goes nosing through the grass, which is un- 

 usual, she is as safe as bird well can be in the great 

 open of nature. She selects the most monotonous and 

 uniform place she can find amid the daisies or the tim- 

 othy and clover, and places her simple structure upon 

 the ground in the midst of it. There is no conceal- 

 ment, except as the great conceals the little, as the 

 desert conceals the pebble, as the myriad conceals the 

 unit. You may find the nest once, if your course 



