12 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 
started me on another of the games of solitaire which 
I like to play out-of-doors, and I tried to see how 
many nests I could discover from the same vantage- 
point without moving. This is really a good way to 
find birds’ nests, and the one who stands still and 
watches the birds will often find more than he who 
beats about. For a long time the robin’s nest was the 
only one on my list. At last the flashing orange and 
black of a Baltimore oriole betrayed its gray swing- 
ing pouch of a nest in a nearby spruce tree — the only 
time that I have ever seen an oriole’s nest in an ever- 
green tree. In a lilac bush I saw the deep nest of the 
catbird, with its four vivid blue eggs and the in- 
evitable grapevine-bark lining around its edge. 
In a high fork in a great maple tree at the corner 
of the road, the chebee, or least flycatcher, showed me 
her home. Sooner or later, if you watch any of the 
flycatchers long enough, they will generally show you 
their nests. This one was high up in a fork, and made 
of string and wool and down. Over in the adjoining 
orchard I saw a kingbird light on her nest in the very 
top of an apple tree; and I have no doubt that, if I 
had climbed up to it, I would have seen three beauti- 
ful cream-white eggs blotched with chocolate-brown. 
The last nest of all was my treasure nest of the 
summer. I was about to give up the game and start 
off for a walk, when suddenly, right ahead of me, 
hanging on the limb of a sugar-maple, not five feet 
above the stone wall, I saw the swinging basket-nest 
of a vireo, with the woven white strips of birch-bark 
on the outside which all vireos use in that part of the 
