birds' eggs 67 



with coarse twigs, as if one were to build a log 

 hut in a palace, and the rusty- colored eggs of 

 the little busybody deposited there. The wren 

 would perhaps stick to its bundle of small 

 fagots in the box or pump tree, and rear its 

 second brood in the cradle of the first, were it 

 not that by seeking new lodgings time can be, 

 saved. The male bird builds and furnishes the 

 second nest, and the mother bird has begun to 

 lay in it before the first is empty. 



The chatter of a second brood of nearly 

 fledged wrens is heard now (August 20) in an 

 oriole's nest suspended from the branch of an 

 apple-tree near where I write. Earlier in the. 

 season the parent birds made long and deter- 

 mined attempts to establish themselves in a 

 cavity that had been occupied by a pair of blue- 

 birds. The original proprietor of the place 

 was the downy woodpecker. He had excavated 

 it the autumn before and had passed the winter 

 there, often to my certain knowledge lying 

 abed till nine o'clock in the morning. In the 

 spring he went elsewhere, probably with a 

 female, to begin the season in new quarters. 

 The bluebirds early took possession, and in 

 June their first brood had flown. The wrens 

 had been hanging around, evidently with an 

 eye on the place (such little comedies may be 

 witnessed anywhere), and now very naturally 

 thought it was their turn. A day or two after 

 the young bluebirds had flown, I noticed some 

 fine, dry grass clinging to the entrance to the 

 cavity; a circumstance which I understood a 



