"BLUEY' 7T 



in their brilliancy and variety would outrival the 

 tints of the setting sun) began to give warning 

 that autumn had come, and cold weather might 

 soon be expected. 



While many of the birds, as we have already 

 noticed, were only visitors, by far the greater 

 number were old friends that had come once more 

 to build their nests, rear their young, and fill the 

 woodlands with song. What would the woods be 

 without the soft melody of the feathered choristers ? 

 The early morning and the evening, too, would be 

 robbed of their greatest charm. 



Notwithstanding all the attractions offered by 

 nature in such profusion, at this, her happiest 

 season, Mrs. Bluebird, who had taken up her 

 quarters in a soft nest of grass snugly arranged in 

 a dark warm cavity in the dead branch of an apple 

 tree, now sat there true to her trust day after day, 

 imparting her life-impelling warmth to her five pale 

 green treasures, smooth and round and more precious 

 than the richest jewels. For nearly two long weeks 

 sat this expectant mother, a model of patience and 

 constancy, never for a moment leaving her charge 

 except when it became necessary to satisfy her 

 hunger. No less constant was her mate, who kept 

 his watch near by and sang soft love songs to his 

 patient little wife. He too was awaiting the time 

 when the longed-for young would emerge from 

 their shells. The great day came at last, the day 

 of days. The soft winds of spring murmured as 

 they carried the sweet perfume of the early flowers 

 through the orchard. Mrs. Bluebird felt a delicate 

 trembling sensation beneath her feathered breast, 



