A GIFT OF THE BIRDS 27 



sure that few, if any, nests were overlooked. After 

 that I gave the buggy-shed, the corn cribs, the pig- 

 pens, and the barn a careful examination and then 

 followed the lane fences to the woods pasture in 

 one direction and to the woods in the other. Lastly, 

 I went with my brothers to the fields, and while they 

 cultivated the crops, I searched the enclosing snake 

 fences, with their corner triangles of green, filled 

 with bushes and trees. It is my firm conviction 

 that at that time there were, at the most conserva- 

 tive estiinate, fifteen birds to every one that can be 

 located in an equally propitious place and the same 

 amount of territory to-day. Before I had finished 

 my inventory I had so many nests that it was mani- 

 festly impossible for me to visit all of them in a 

 day; so I selected sixty of those, which were most 

 conveniently located and belonged to the rarest 

 and most beautiful birds, giving them undivided 

 attention and contenting myself with being able 

 to point out, describe, and boast about the re- 

 mainder. 



As always ownership brought its cares. At once 

 an unusual sense of watchfulness developed. No 

 landholder was ever more eager to add to his 

 acres than I was to increase my fiock of birds. 

 My first act was to beg my mother for an old tea- 

 spoon that I might have to keep. A green warbler 

 in the gooseberry bushes, when stepping into 

 her nest, had pierced the shell of an egg with the 

 sharp nail of one of her toes. If the broken egg 



