THE FAMILIAR BIRDS 



a nest in the corner of the bushy lot that held the 

 sparrow's nest, because I had heard the male send- 

 ing forth his polyglot challenge from that vicinity 

 on several occasions, and twice had I ransacked that 

 part of the field and the bushy border of the adjoin- 

 ing field pretty thoroughly. On this day, which was 

 a wet one, I renewed the search, beating through the 

 low growths of sumac and witch-hazel and scrub 

 oak very carefully. As I reached the corner of the 

 field, where my course was barred by an old stone 

 fence, I paused and was about turning back, saying 

 to myself regretfully and half audibly, "I should 

 like to find that nest," when, turning around, I spied 

 the nest in a hazel-bush not five feet from me. The 

 setting bird slipped off as my eye caught her nest, 

 and silently disappeared in the bushes. In a mo- 

 ment more, and while I was inspecting the nest, she 

 appeared fifteen feet away and uttered a sharp, 

 harsh, feline mew. But her mate did not show him- 

 self, nor did he during any of my subsequent visits. 

 I often heard him sending forth his unbirdlike calls 

 from the bushes, but never once did I lay eyes 

 upon him, though I tried hard to do so. 



The nest was quite a massive structure in the forks 

 of a hazel-bush, about four feet from the ground; 

 it held four handsome, speckled eggs. I should Kke 

 to have put my young cowbird in such a nest, could 

 I have found it at the right moment, and watched 

 the result. 



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