A BLACKBERRY TANGLE. 91 



occupied the whole length of a steep little slope 

 between a meadow and the orchard, and at the 

 lower edge rested against a fence in the last 

 stages of decrepitude. During many years of 

 neglect it had almost returned to a state of wild- 

 ness. Long, briery runners had bound the whole 

 into an impenetrable mass, forbidding alike to 

 man and beast, and neighboring trees had sprin- 

 kled it with a promising crop of seedlings ; or, 

 as Lowell pictures it, 



" The tangled blackberry, crossed and recrossed, weaves 

 A prickly network of ensanguined leaves." 



As if planned for the use of birds, at one end 

 stood a delectable watch-tower in the shape of a 

 great elm, and at the other a cluster of smaller 

 trees, apple, ash, and maple. These advan- 

 tages had not escaped the keen eyes of our clever 

 little brothers, and it was a centre of busy life 

 during the nesting season. 



The first time I attempted to find the chat's 

 nest, the bird himself accompanied me up and 

 down the borders of this well-fortified black- 

 berry thicket, mocking at me, and uttering his 

 characteristic call, a sort of mew, different from 

 that of the catbird or the cat, at the same time 

 carefully keeping his precious body entirely 

 screened by the foliage. Well he knew that 

 no clumsy, garmented human creature how- 

 ever inquisitive, could penetrate his thorny juu- 



