PHASES OF BIRD LIFE. I 79 



these eggs were almost always hatched first. One 

 wood-thrush's nest contamed two bunting and three 

 thrush eggs. As soon as the bantlings had broken 

 from the shell, the buntings could be readily dis- 

 tinguished from the thrushes, for the former feath- 

 ered much more rapidly than the latter. When the 

 youngsters were about half grown, they crowded one 

 another considerably in their adobe apartment, but, 

 to all intents and purposes, they lived together in 

 beautiful domestic harmony. At all events, no un- 

 seemly family wrangles came under my eye. By 

 and by, on one of my visits, I found that the bunt- 

 ings had left the maternal roof (to speak with a 

 good deal of poetic license), while the thrush trio 

 still sat contentedly on the nest, and did not display 

 any fear when I caressingly stroked their brown 

 backs, but looked up at me in a va'ive, confiding 

 way that was very gratifying. Quite different was 

 the conduct of the inmates of a bush-sparrow's nest, 

 hidden in the grass at the woodland's border. The 

 baby sparrows rushed pell-mell from their pretty 

 homestead when I came near, leaving a bunting, 

 wViich had been hatched and reared with them, 

 alone in the nest. He was not nearly so far 

 developed as his brothers and sisters, and had no 

 intention of being driven from home. 



But here is an instance more like that of the 

 bunting- wood- thrush episode just described. A pretty 

 basket, woven of fine fibrous material, swung from 

 the lower branches of an apple-tree in the orchard 

 of one of my farmer friends, and contained three 



