302 TALKS WITH YOUNG OBSERVERS 



tinned, when the bird I was watching flew in 

 amid the top branches, and the cry became still 

 more urgent and plaintive. I stepped along a 

 few paces and saw the birds, the female stand- 

 ing up in her nest and the male feeding her. 

 The nest was placed in a sort of basket formed 

 by the whorl of up- curving branches at the top 

 of the tree, the central shaft being gone. 



It contained four eggs of a dirty brownish- 

 greenish color. As I was climbing up to it, a 

 turtle dove threw herself out of the tree and 

 fluttered to the ground as if mortally wounded. 

 My little boy was looking on, and seeing the 

 dove apparently so helpless and in such distress, 

 ran to see "what in the world ailed it." It 

 fluttered along before him for a few yards, and 

 then its mate appearing upon the scene, the two 

 flew away, much to the surprise of the boy. 

 We soon found the doves' nest, a shelf of twigs 

 on a branch about midway of the tree. It held 

 two young birds nearly fledged. How they 

 seemed to pant as they crouched there, a shape- 

 less mass of down and feathers, regarding us! 

 The doves had been so sly about their nesting 

 that I had never suspected them for a moment. 

 The next tree held a robin's nest, and the nest 

 of a purple finch is probably near by. One 

 usually makes a mistake in going away from 

 home to look for birds' nests. Search the trees 

 about your door. 



The blue-jay is a cruel nest- robber, but this 

 pair had spared the doves in the same tree, and 

 I think they have made their peace with the 



