72 IN CARLYLE'S COUNTRY. 



a blackbird's nest ; but I said I had already seen 

 several of these and my curiosity was satisfied. Did 

 they know any others ? Yes, several of them ; 

 beyond the village, on the Middlebie road, they knew 

 a wren's nest with eighteen eggs in it. Well, I 

 would see that, and that would be enough ; the cop- 

 pers were changing pockets too fast. So through the 

 village we went, and along the Middlebie road for 

 nearly a mile. The boys were as grave and silent as if 

 they were attending a funeral ; not a remark, not a 

 smile. We walked rapidly. The afternoon was warm, 

 for Scotland, and the tips of their ears glowed through 

 their locks, as they wiped their brows. I began to 

 feel as if I had had about enough walking myself. 

 " Boys, how much farther is it ? " I said. " A wee 

 bit farther, sir ; " and presently, by their increasing 

 pace, I knew we were nearing it. It proved to be the 

 nest of the willow wren, or willow warbler, an ex- 

 quisite structure, with a dome or canopy above it, 

 the cavity lined with feathers and crowded with eggs. 

 But it did not contain eighteen. The boys said they 

 had been told that the bird would lay as many as 

 eighteen eggs ; but it is the common wren that lays 

 this number, even more. What struck me most 

 was the gravity and silent earnestness of the boys. 

 As we walked back they showed me more nests that 

 had been harried. The elder boy's name was Thomas. 

 He had heard of Thomas Carlyle ; but when I asked 

 him what he thought of him, he only looked awk- 

 wardly upon the ground. 



