52 BIRD-SONGS. 



I have never seen anything equal to this ; but 

 one day, happening to stop under a low cedar, 

 I discovered right over my bead a waxwing's 

 nest with the mother-bird sitting upon it, while 

 her mate was perched beside her on the branch. 

 He was barely out of my reach, but he did not 

 move a muscle ; and although he uttered no 

 sound, his behavior said as plainly as possible, 

 "What do you expect to do here? Don't you 

 see Jam standing guard over this nest?" I 

 should be ashamed not to be able to add that I 

 respected his dignity and courage, and left him 

 and his castle unmolested. 



Observations so discursive as these can hardly 

 be finished ; they must break off abruptly, or 

 else go on forever. Let us make an end, there- 

 fore, with expressing our hope that the cedar- 

 bird, already so handsome and chivalrous, will 

 yet take to himself a song ; one sweet and orig- 

 inal, worthy to go with his soft satin coat, his 

 ornaments of sealing-wax, and his magnificent 

 top-knot. Let him do that, and he shall al- 

 ways be made welcome ; yes, even though he 

 come in force and in cherry-time. 



