A Tragedy 339 



work with twigs and string, stuffing the Httle cracks and hollows with wool 

 and feathers, covering every rough twig. Many times during the day she would 

 slip into the nest to try it, that it should be the right shape and size and height. 

 This seemed an important part of her work, for after these trials she would 

 remedy some defect, working and weaving with the materials already in the 

 nest. She now evidently considered the nest finished, as she came but few times 

 during the next few days, then only putting in a few downy feathers or adjust- 

 ing the cotton-wool lining. She built her nest entirely alone, her mate coming 

 no nearer than the fig tree, where he sat singing incessantly while she was 

 at work. 



On the morning of April 3 she came early and sat quietly on the nest, her 

 mate as usual singing lustily from the nearby fig tree. About 7.30 she hopped 

 from the nest, calling loudly for her mate, every fiber of her body aquiver with 

 excitement. He came like a shot, embraced her with great fluttering of wings 

 and excited twitterings, and then they looked into the nest. Wonder of won- 

 ders ! A pale bluish green egg with a few dark brown spots and lines at the 

 larger end. She went on to the nest, twittering snatches from lullabies, while 

 he went back to the tree to tell the world of the great event. Was there ever 

 so much excitement, tenderness, and romance contained in such a little scrap 

 of flesh and blood ! In about an hour they both left, returning two or three 

 times during the day to look at the wonderful egg. 



The next morning she was on the nest again, and at 8.15 she called her 

 mate to see the second egg; and after sitting for a half hour upon the eggs, 

 twittering and crooning, she left with her mate, returning from time to time 

 to admire her eggs. The next day at about 9.15 the third egg was laid, and the 

 program of the previous days repeated. The fourth and last egg, which was a 

 trifle smaller than the others, was laid the next morning at 8 o'clock. 



Each time that she laid her egg she called her mate with excited, urgent 

 chirps. Always he came like the wind from his perch nearby; always they 

 met with fluttering of wings, twitterings, and embraces before flying up to the 

 nest to inspect the eggs; always, after the inspection, she would sit on the nest 

 for about a half hour, whispering and twittering, while her mate was announc- 

 ing the good news to the bird-world and singing his gratitude and joy to his 

 little bride. 



After the fourth egg was laid she settled down to incubate, calling her mate 

 every few hours, and then with a distinctly different note asking for food. She 

 always hopped off the nest to meet him whenever he came to feed her. If he 

 saw anyone approach the rose- vine, or when within the porch we would come 

 near the window, he would allay her fears with encouraging messages and she 

 would answer with brave little chirps. 



On the afternoon of April 8 a severe windstorm came up, with a downpour 

 of rain and hail. She was exceedingly frightened at the violence of the wind 

 and the large hailstones striking her nest and herself. She called anxiously; 



