THE TRAGEDIES OF THE NESTS 73 



When the cowbird finds two or more eggs in a 

 nest in which she wishes to deposit her own, she 

 will remove one of them. I found a sparrow's nest 

 with two sparrow's eggs and one cowbird's egg, and 

 another egg lying a foot or so below it on the 

 ground. I replaced the ejected egg, and the next 

 day found it again removed, and another cowbird's 

 egg in its place. I put it back the second time, 

 when it was again ejected, or destroyed, for I failed 

 to find it anywhere. Very alert and sensitive birds 

 like the warblers, often bury the strange egg beneath 

 a second nest built on top of the old. A lady, 

 living in the suburbs of an eastern city, one morn- 

 ing heard cries of distress from a pair of house 

 wrens that had a nest in a honeysuckle on her front 

 porch. On looking out of the window, she beheld 

 this little comedy, — comedy from her point of 

 view, but no doubt grim tragedy from the point of 

 view of the wrens: a cowbird with a wren's egg in 

 its beak running rapidly along the walk, with the 

 outraged wrens forming a procession behind it, 

 screaming, scolding, and gesticulating as only these 

 voluble little birds can. The cowbird had probably 

 been surprised in the act of violatmg the nest, and 

 the wrens were giving her a piece of their minds. 



Every cowbird is reared at the expense of two or 

 more song-birds. For every one of these dusky 

 little pedestrians there amid the grazing cattle there 

 are two or more sparrows, or vireos, or warblers, 

 the less. It is a big price to pay, — two larks for 

 a bunting, — two sovereigns for a shilling; but 



