THE FEATHER-TRIMMED NEST. 



Such a dear little warm home as it was, 

 tucked away in such a sheltered nook ! 

 Down on Long Island there is a pretty 

 village, and in that village an old-fash- 

 ioned house. After the house was built, 

 a piazza w^as added, built out from-the 

 second story like a square room, and sup- 

 ported by posts sunk in the lawn. 

 Where two of the foundation beams 

 cross each other, one being below the 

 other, a shelf was formed, on which, 

 about in the middle, a mother swallow 

 built her nest. There w^as a space of 

 about four inches between the edge of 

 the nest and the floor o'f the piazza, just 

 room enough to allow the mother bird to 

 flit in and out of the nest. We did not 

 discover our neighbors for some time, 

 not ■ until the frequent flights of the 

 parent birds made us think there must 

 be some young ones near by. 



The nest was high above our heads as 

 we stood on the ground, and the birdies 

 quite safe, and we soon saw some wide- 

 open bills over the edge of the nest. The 

 mother bird at first resented our pres- 

 ence and circled about us with scolding 

 notes, but soon seeing we meant no harm, 

 she went on feeding her babies while we 

 looked on. But one day we saw a sur- 

 prising sight. A flock of white hens 

 roamed over the lawn, and white feath- 

 ers were plentiful. This morning from 

 the edge oi the nest rose a white feather, 

 attached by the quill end, and standing 

 up straight. In two or three days a row 

 of white feathers encircled the nest, mak- 

 ing a waving white screen all around it. 

 The effect was very curious when the big 

 mouths poked through the white screen 



to receive their food. Whether the 

 mother wished to hide her young birds 

 from prying eyes, or whether she loved 

 ornament, or wished to keep her birdies 

 warm, we never knew, but the nest was 

 very pretty with its odd white border. 



One morning we were sitting above 

 on the piazza wdien we heard a great 

 outcry. Sally, the dusky cook, had found 

 the nest, and stood gazing at the row 

 of four little birdies now resting out- 

 side the nest on the beam. When the 

 mother swallow came back and, seeing 

 Sally, made a dive for her wooiUy head. 

 Sally screamed, and, throwing her apron 

 over her head, made for the kitchen door, 

 the bird darting at her fiercely until she 

 disappeared. At the barn lived a gray 

 pussy, quite a kitten still, with playful 

 ways. Whenever she strayed too near 

 the nest the swallow would dart at her ; 

 the kitten would dodge her head and roll 

 over on her back, making passes at the 

 bird with her claws, then, scrambling up, 

 would run a few steps, till the bird 

 would dart at her again, and the same 

 scene would be repeated, until pussy was 

 driven away. The bird came so close to 

 her that it seemed to take nips from her 

 fur. 



The mother-care was rewarded, and all 

 the birdies were gone one morning, fly- 

 ing about with their mother, all but one. 

 That one was weak or fearful, and w^e 

 thought he would starve, but after three 

 days of loneliness he too disappeared, to 

 what end we never knew, and the pretty 

 nest with its edge of white feathers was 

 deserted. 



Elizabeth H. Coombs. 



