74 SIGNS AND SEASONS 



Nature does not hesitate occasionally to contradict 

 herself in just this way. The young of the cow- 

 bird is disproportionately large and aggressive, one 

 might say hoggish. When disturbed, it will clasp 

 the nest and scream and snap its beak threateningly. 

 One hatched out in a song sparrow's nest which was 

 under my observation, and would soon have over- 

 ridden and overborne the young sparrow which 

 came out of the shell a few hours later, had I not 

 interfered from time to time and lent the young 

 sparrow a helping hand. Every day I would visit 

 the nest and take the sparrow out from under the 

 pot-bellied interloper, and place it on top, so that 

 presently it was able to hold its own against its 

 enemy. Both birds became fledged and left the 

 nest about the same time. Whether the race was 

 an even one after that, I know not. 



I noted but two warblers' nests during that sea- 

 son, one of the black- throated blue-back and one 

 of the redstart, — the latter built in an apple-tree 

 but a few yards from a little rustic summer-house 

 where I idle away many summer days. The lively 

 little birds, darting and flashing about, attracted 

 my attention for a week before I discovered their 

 nest. They probably built it by working early in 

 the morning, before I appeared upon the scene, as 

 I never saw them with material in their beaks. 

 Guessing from their movements that the nest was 

 in a large maple that stood near by, I climbed the 

 tree and explored it thoroughly, looking especially 

 in the forks of the branches, as the authorities sa^ 



