Bird Life. 103 



Yet this, one or both parents joyfully do. More 

 than this, some strange sympathetic knowledge of 

 what is about to ensue causes them in most 

 cases to prepare a home for the young before the 

 eggs are laid. Skilfully they weave their cunning 

 nests, and artfully hide them in grass or bush, 

 swing them from the twigs of trees, or firmly 

 plant them in their crotches. 



Nor is their duty ended when the young come 

 forth ; then the cramped and tired parents stretch 

 their wings, indeed, for these help- 

 less ones must be fed. All day long 

 they fly abroad, bringing home dainty 

 morsels, scarcely stopping to satisfy 

 their own hunger, so urgent is the 

 appeal of those hungry little ones. 



Now the plumage of the parents fades again, the 

 male sings less exaltedly, the great quickening 

 season of sex-life is over. The magic power that 

 drew one to the other is in abeyance ; each has ful- 

 filled this phase of its destiny ; the one has laid the 

 eggs, the other contributed to their development. 



The first ardor of the love season having passed, 

 in its place comes this new sympathy which makes 

 them labor for the fruit of their great love, which 

 holds them together in mutual work and weariness, 

 and mutual love and joy in their treasures. 



It is the dawning of a higher life. Parental love 

 is an early and potent form of unselfishness. 



Besides the instinct of nest-building and the 



