TRAGEDIES OF THE NESTS. 29 



Ruin fell upon this charming retreat in this 

 wise. One day on my approach I saw commo- 

 tion in the shrubs and two negroes at work 

 chopping great branches out on each side of the 

 path, letting in the sun to my bank, and turn- 

 ing it into a hideous wreck. I protested. 



" Why is this ? What are you doing ? " 



" Oh, we 're just cuttin' some pea-poles ! " they 

 replied calmly. They had been too lazy or too 

 indifferent to step ten feet on one side into the 

 thicker copse, and leave the pretty path in its 

 beauty, and the mischief was done, and after all 

 it was not my business. I passed on. 



Bird-study has other annoyances in that part 

 of the world beside the human beings of whom 

 I have spoken. Next, perhaps, are the suffer- 

 ings which wring the heart all the while. John 

 Burroughs has written the tragedies of the 

 nests ; he could add a chapter more tragical than 

 all, should he visit the haunts of the mocking- 

 bird. Nothing can be more dreadful than the 

 systematic and persistent war made upon this 

 bird, of which nevertheless every Southerner is 

 proud. 



Lastly, the hindrances which Dame Nature 

 herself throws around her mysteries. There 

 are the prickly pears, sowed broadcast over the 

 land so thickly that one can hardly avoid step- 

 ping on them, with thorns sharp as needles, and 



