JULY 105 



little tomtits ! they are so unsuspicious and good-natured, and 

 it seems very unfair that their simplicity should be so imposed 

 upon. Still, their nest is really rather ragged, and they could 

 spare a few fibres for the black-cap's tiny home. 



The only other birds I found building were the sweet-voiced, 

 tawny-crowned honey-eaters, though everywhere I heard the 

 courting notes, and saw birds evidently looking round for nest- 

 ing spots. 



But I had come out with an object in view. Last month 

 I had found a lyre-bird's nest with an egg. Two weeks ago I 

 visited it, and found the treasure still intact, and to-day I hoped 

 to find the chick. So I left the tomtits to their building, and 

 hurried on. At least I meant to hurry, but the path was one 

 long series of interruptions. Such sweet interruptions they 

 were, though, that I could not grumble. First there was a 

 gorgeous clump of oh, hateful name ! bossiaea, its flat stalks 

 thickly covered with brown and golden pea blossoms that stood 

 out in sharp contrast to the pale sandy soil. Then a little 

 further on I found the first dillwynia of the year. Two or three 

 plants were sparsely decorated with the opening yellow 

 blossoms, but one small bush in a sheltered spot was covered 

 with flowers, and stood out bravely as the forerunner of the 

 golden army which will soon overrun the whole bush. Crimson 

 spider-flowers were the next to hold my attention, and as I 

 stopped to admire them I saw the clear yellow round flowers 

 of the little hibbertia peering through a tangle of bushes. I 



