AND HOW I HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 147 



thump, thump in my birds'-nesting days, but now 

 I looked down on the beaded, pleading eye of 

 a blackbird as she sat hoping that I might not 

 disturb her, and regretted that the pointing of the 

 camera frightened her off. 



Two wrens were making believe that the shelter 

 of the overhanging bank had no attractions for 

 them, and that their presence was quite casual, but 

 I could see from where I sat the little round nest, 

 with its tiny peephole, which fingers may not touch 

 until you know the coveted eggs are there or 

 these little creatures will go elsewhere and build 

 again. 



A robin, perched on a branch above our heads 

 with nesting in his beak, was waiting patiently for 

 our going, while his mate flitted to and fro anxiously 

 showing us how easy motion was, but we sat on 

 pretending not to watch, and saw the loaded bird 

 visit a hole in the high bank, and when it came out 

 again its beak was empty. 



On a gate close by a cow had comforted her 

 tickling side and left much hair, and it was from 

 this great store the robins lined their nest. Instinc- 

 tively I took bearings of their home so as to pay 

 a visit when the eggs were there. 



" Chit, chit, chit, doant stew " in a plaintive key 

 kept my years away, and I was still a boy, and was 

 off to find the tell-tale straw that always hangs from 

 the yellow-hammer's window, but when I peeped in 

 and saw the familiar eggs, I suddenly remembered 



L 2 



