50 OUT OF THE NEST. 



on reacLing my usual seat I knew at once, by 

 the louder cry, that a young bird was out of the 

 nest, and after some searching through the tree 

 I found him, — a yellowish-drab little fellow, 

 with very decided wing-markings, a tail per- 

 haps an inch in length, and soft slate-colored 

 spots, so long as almost to be streaks, on the 

 breast. He was scrambling about the branches, 

 always trying to get a higher place, calling and 

 perking his insignificant tail in true mocking- 

 bird fashion. I think the parents disapproved 

 this early ambition, for they did not feed him 

 for a long time, though they passed him to go 

 to the nest. So far from being lightened, their 

 cares were greatly increased by the precocious- 

 ness of the youngster, and from this moment 

 their trouble and worry were grievous to see. 

 So much self-reliance has the mocking-bird, 

 even in the nest, that he cannot be kept there 

 until his legs are strong enough to bear his 

 weight, or his wings ready to fly. The full- 

 grown spirit of the race blossoms out in the 

 young one at eleven days, and for several more 

 he is exposed to so many dangers that I won- 

 der there is one left in the State. 



The parents, one after the other, came down 

 on to a bush near my seat to remonstrate with 

 me; and I must admit that so great was my 

 sympathy, and so uncomfortable did I feel at 



