THE PARK. 131 



the hen bird arranging them according to her taste and 

 judgment. All of a sudden the cockbird left the nest, 

 disappeared for a few seconds, and then came back with 

 something in its beak. It next busied itself for a 

 minute or two, and then flew away as abruptly as it 

 did before. While the bird kept on thus flying 

 in and out, Janardan asked me if I knew what 

 this restlessness of the bird meant. I did not know 

 of course, and said so. He explained to me that 

 every time the bird came in, it carried a very small 

 lump of mud in its beak which it employed in plaster- 

 ing a portion of the nest. Opinions differed as to the 

 object of this plastering. Some thought it was 

 to stick fire-flies on to illumine the nest at night. 

 Janardan did not believe the story, but advised me 

 to observe it for myself and find out whether there was 

 any truth in it ; others said that they provided these 

 lumps to sharpen their beak. A few were of opinion 

 that the mud was employed to strengthen the nest and 

 balance it properly. While I was deeply absorbed in 

 listening to Janardan's stones about the nesting habits 

 of these birds, and admiring their untaught skill, 

 somebody gently tapped me on the shoulder, I turned 

 round, and saw the venerable figure of Svamiji before 

 me. " Well, my boy," said he, " has the palmyra tree 

 told you why it chose to have such a bare and tall 

 stem ?" I felt ashamed and confused. I was no 

 longer a boy, and a desire to appear what I was not, 

 call it conceit or anything else, had already cast its 



