The Palace in the Pig-pen 
or a hawk? It is possible; and this is an easy and 
kindly way to think of him. Nor is it impossible that 
he may have remained as leader and protector to the 
first brood, or (perish the thought!) might he per- 
haps have grown weary at sight of the second lot 
of five eggs, of the long days and the neglect that 
they meant for him, and out of jealousy and fickle- 
ness wickedly deserted ? 
I hope it was death, a stainless, even ignominious 
death by one of my neighbor’s dozen cats. 
Death or desertion, it involved a second tragedy. 
Five such young ones at this time were too many 
for the mother. She fought nobly; no mother could 
have done more. All five were brought within a few 
days of flight; then, one day, I saw a little wing 
hanging listlessly over the side of the nest. I went 
closer. One had died. It had starved to death. 
There were none of the parasites in the nest that 
often kill these birds. It was a plain case of sacri- 
fice, — by the mother, perhaps ; by the other young, 
maybe, — one for the other four. 
But she did well. Nine such young birds to her 
credit since April. Who shall measure her actual use 
to the world ? How does she compare in value with 
173 
