146 SCRAPING ACQUAINTANCE. 



wards the female bravely sat still, while I bent 

 over her, admiring her courage and her hand- 

 some dress. I paid my respects to the little 

 mother almost daily, but jealously guarded her 

 secret, sharing it only with a kind-hearted 

 woman, whom I took with me on one of my 

 visits. But, alas! one day I called, only to 

 find the nest empty. Whether the villain who 

 pillaged it traveled on two legs, or on four, I 

 never knew. Possibly he dropped out of the 

 air. But I wished him no good, whoever he 

 was. Next year the birds appeared again, and 

 more than one pair of them ; but no nest could 

 I find, though I often looked for it, and, as 

 children say in their games, was sometimes very 

 warm. 



Is there any lover of birds in whose mind 

 certain birds and certain places are not indis- 

 solubly joined ? Most of us, I am sure, could 

 go over the list and name the exact spots 

 where we first saw this one, where we first 

 heard that one sing, and where we found 

 our first nest of the other. There is a piece 

 of swampy woodland in Jefferson, New Hamp- 

 shire, midway between the hotels and the rail- 

 way station, which, for me, will always be as- 

 sociated with the song of the winter wren. I 

 had been making an attempt to explore the 

 wood, with a view to its botanical treasures ; 



