WILD PASTURES 



bluebirds, returning too late, drove them 

 away with more than usual despatch. 

 This first called the affair to my atten- 

 tion. But I was too late. 



The young birds were dead and the 

 sparrows were chattering in raucous 

 jubilation over it, now and then giving 

 a squeak of fright or pain as the male 

 bluebird singled out an individual and 

 attacked him with a fury of which I 

 had not believed him capable. Soon, 

 however, he ceased, and the two twit- 

 tered mournfully about the tree for 

 hours, again and again poising in flut- 

 tering flight before the door of their de- 

 spoiled home and looking eagerly in, as 

 if they could not believe that the young 

 were indeed gone. Later they went si- 

 lently away. No doubt they found an- 

 other home in some hollow tree of the 

 remote pasture and raised another brood. 

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