162 IN THE MIDDLE COUNTRY. 



Upon our entrance the next morning, my 

 first glance at the nest was one of dismay the 

 material seemed to be pulled out a little. * Had 

 it been robbed ! had some vagabond squirrel 

 thrust lawless paws into the little home! I 

 looked closely; no, there sat, or rather there 

 lay the little mother. But she did not relish 

 this second call. She flew, fluttering and trail- 

 ing on the ground, as if hurt, hoping, of course, 

 to attract us away from her nest. Seeing that 

 of no avail, however, which she quickly did, 

 she retreated to a low branch, threw back her 

 head, and uttered a soft " chur-r-r," again and 

 again repeated, doubtless to her mate. But 

 that personage did not make his appearance, 

 and we examined the nest. There were five 

 eggs, white, very thickly and evenly specked 

 with fine dots of dark color. An end of one 

 that stuck up was plain white, perhaps the 

 others were the same ; we did not inquire too 

 closely, for what did we care for eggs, except as 

 the cradles of the future birds ? 



Very soon we retired to our seat across the 

 court and became quiet, to wait for what might 

 come. Suddenly, with almost startling effect, 



" A bird broke forth and sung 

 And trilled and quavered and shook his throat." 



It was a new voice to us, loud and clear, and 

 the song, consisting of three clauses, sounded 



