80 WOODLAND CREATURES 



of the nest, where she stood for a moment looking 

 down on her five eggs, those dainty beautiful 

 eggs of which she was a worthy owner, for she 

 was as charming in her quiet demure way as her 

 more gaily clad mate. He, with his rose-tinted 

 waistcoat, looked like a gay Cavalier, while she 

 might have been some meek Puritan dame. Still 

 he twittered to her, seeming to beseech her not 

 to let the eggs get cold, and at last she did 

 settle down, slipping lightly on to them and 

 fluffing out her feathers comfortably over her 

 treasures. 



At first the hen bullfinch seemed a trifle uneasy ; 

 her penetrating black eyes glanced suspiciously 

 at the tent, then she turned her head in the direction 

 in which the cock had disappeared, and I feared 

 she would follow him, but the wild life of the little 

 wood went on unheeding all around, the thrushes, 

 blackcaps, and garden warblers continued to 

 pour forth their songs, and she gradually lost 

 the look of strain and worry, and it seemed as 

 if the drowsy buzzing and humming of the hover 

 flies was lulling her to sleep. At last I thought 

 I might try and take a photograph, so squeezed 

 the bulb of my so-called silent shutter, when 

 even its pronounced " click " failed to disturb her; 

 however, I waited some time before trying to 

 change the plate, but while doing so accidentally 

 shook the camera and with it the front of the 

 tent Madam was gone in an instant ! 



I subsequently found that both the bullfinches 

 were practically indifferent to noise ; I could 



