ON THE BEACH AT DAYTONA. 63 
and went to the edge of the thicket to in- 
spect her work: a bulky affair, — nearly 
done, I thought, — loosely constructed of 
pretty large twigs. I had barely returned 
to the veranda before the bird appeared 
again. This time I was in a position to 
look squarely in upon her. She had some 
difficulty in edging her way through the 
dense bushes with a long, branching stick 
in her bill; but she accomplished the feat, 
fitted the new material into its place, re- 
adjusted the other twigs a bit here and 
there, and then, as she rose to depart, she 
looked me suddenly in the face and stopped, 
as much as to say, “ Well, well! here’s a 
pretty go! A man spying upon me!” I 
wondered whether she would throw up the 
work, but in another minute she was back 
again with another twig. The nest, I should 
have said, was about four feet from the 
ground, and perhaps twenty feet from the 
cottage. Four days later, I found her sit- 
ting upon it. She flew off as I came up, 
and I pushed into the scrub far enough to 
thrust my hand into the nest, which, to my 
disappointment, was empty. In fact, it was 
still far from completed; for on the 3d of 
