Io6 IN BIRD LAND. 



on her nest as if glued fast, only glaring at me with 

 her wild, beady eyes. At length I softly laid my 

 finger on her back, when she uttered a queer, half- 

 scolding cry, and leaped up to the nest's rim, but 

 did not fly. There she stood, turning her head and 

 eying me keenly until I stole away, unwilling to for- 

 feit her confidence and good-will. But when, on 

 my way home, I paused a moment to look at the 

 bush-sparrow's nest, the mother flitted away with a 

 frightened chirp before I came within reach. She 

 was not as confiding as her little neighbor, the 

 goldfinch. 



Now mark ! On the fifteenth of August the young 

 bush-sparrows had become so large and well devel- 

 oped that when, meaning no harm, I touched them 

 gently with my finger, they flipped out of the nest 

 like flashes of lightning. The infant goldfinches 

 were not yet more than half fledged, and merely 

 snuggled close to the bottom of the nest when I 

 caressed them. The idea of flying was still remote 

 from their little pates. These observations prove 

 that young bush-sparrows develop much more rap- 

 idly than young goldfinches ; yet, strange as it may 

 seem, the goldfinch, when grown, flies much higher, 

 if not more swiftly, than his little neighbor, and 

 continues longer on the wing. 



On the same day I sat down in the clover, a few 

 rods from the goldfinch's nest, and kept close watch 

 on both the old birds and their offspring for an hour 

 and a half. The sun attacked me savagely with 

 his red-hot arrows, and the sweat broke from every 



