on the Nesting of the Orange Bishop. 91


would permit and then, seeing no sign nor prospect of the return

of the Bishop, went to the house for a tea spoon with which to

take out the eggs, but, when about to insert it, found her once

more in possession. She had threaded her way in comparative

darkness from the lighted birdroom through the open chink in

the window, along the side of a part of the house which the next

house had thrown into deep shade, just over the heads of the

glaring and excited Owls now very much awake, through the

opening in the division between the two aviaries which was

partially blocked with a tangle of golden-elder boughs, round

two sides or possibly diagonally across the over-grown inner

aviary, and had safely regained the nest in the gloomy wood-

pile in about the darkest corner of the whole place.


The devotion to duty of these two birds was worthy of

greater consideration at my hands than I extended to them. I

had the other birds to think of, some valuable and many highly

valued, and was unwilling to deprive them, with the long winter

coming on, of the substantial benefits to be derived from the

free use of the entire garden ; moreover, I was shy of confining

the Bishops to the inner aviary, for, oddly enough, although

there was an abundance of food near to the nest, I had noticed

that it was the custom of the female to fly right away to the bird-

room to feed, probably with the added purpose of getting a good

warm. Somebody besides myself seems to have noticed this

little peculiarity on the part of the female, and to have made

arrangements accordingly. During the absence of the female,

why did not her mate cover the eggs instead of standing outside

flapping his wings and trying to look big? Just about this time

another pair of birds were hatching out young in the birdroom

and had not even been detected, but then they were running

their business on the quiet in a secluded corner, not on the cock-

a-doodle-do system in the most frequented resort in the whole

garden. His brilliant uniform and military swagger impressed

the other birds with respect for a time—but at least one had

taken his measure. I suppose we must not be too hard on him

though. His gaudy plumage attracts the eye at such a distance

that for him to enter such a gossamer nest would be to betray its

position, in this case already only too well known, and instinct



