THe Bay of he Band 
would see one of them in the nest, so deep in that 
only a head or a tail showed over the round rim. 
After several days I looked to see the eggs, but 
to my surprise found the nest empty. It had been 
robbed, I thought, yet by what creature I could not 
imagine. Then down cuddled one of the birds again, 
—and I understood. Instead of wet and cold, the 
nest to-day felt warm to my hand; it was dry almost 
to the bottom. It had changed color, too, all the 
upper part having turned a soft silver-gray. She 
(Iam sure it was she) had not been brooding her 
eggs at all; she had been brooding her mother’s 
thought of them; and for them had been nestling 
here these days and nights, drying and warming their 
damp cradle with the fire of her life and love, 
In due time the eggs came, — five of them, white, 
spotless, and shapely. While the little hen was hatch- 
ing them I gave my attention further to the cock. 
I am writing this with a black suspicion over- 
hanging him. But of that later. I hope it is un- 
founded, and I shall give him the benefit of the 
doubt. A man is innocent until proved guilty. I 
have no positive evidence of Mr. Phoebe’s wrong. 
Our intimate friendship has revealed a most pleas- 
168 
