"s'gS J Bruce, A Month -mH/i the Goldjhtrhes. 2 A. I 



mate. After tlie dainty meal was finished tliey would talk 

 together for a moment before he left her for another flight into 

 the big sunshiny world. Life in this miniature home was very 

 sweet and harmonious, and the golden bird in the tiny tree 

 with its treasure of a nest made a charming picture. 



For the next four weeks I visited the orchard daily. They 

 were quiet hours I spent there, but there was no lack of enter- 

 tainment. For music the Field Sparrows sang to me their 

 simple, plaintive songs, and from far up on the hills I could 

 sometimes hear the chant of the Hermit Thrush. A pair of 

 Chipping Sparrows in a neighboring apple tree were bringing up 

 their only child wdth quite as much solicitude as if they were bur- 

 dened with a large family. They were a striking contrast to the 

 serene and happy Goldfinches, but, plain little brown folks as 

 they were, I enjoyed watching them. Sometimes young Warblers, 

 looking strangely unlike their parents, visited the orchard, or a 

 bevy of Crows from a maple grove near by, disturbed by a pass- 

 ing Hawk, startled me out of my day dreams. I wondered if the 

 little Goldfinch had as many resources as I, or if the hours seemed 

 long to her. Perhaps she too dreamed day dreams and listened 

 to the music of nature. ' She seldom left the nest, though I 

 occasionally startled her off by some sudden movement, when she 

 reproached me for my carelessness in the sweetest of voices. 



When I first looked into the nest there were six eggs, white, 

 with faintest tinge of blue, and pretty enough to satisfy any bird 

 mother, but my little girl friend had told me that there were but 

 two eggs laid when the bird began to sit, and I was curious 

 to know whether there would not be a marked difference in the 

 age of the young ones. After two week's patient waiting the 

 little mother and I were rewarded by finding among the pretty 

 eggs a very ugly birdling. On my afternoon visit there were 

 three little birds, the next day four, and on the day following I 

 counted five heads. By this time the mother did not sit con- 

 stantly on the nest, but cunningly tucked the remaining egg under 

 the little birds and went on short excursions into the countr}-. 

 Whether the young ones did not do their duty, or whether it was 

 another instance of the survival of the fittest I cannot tell, but 

 when the oldest nestling was five days old I again counted heads 



