THE CITY OF THE BIRDS. 7 1 



cemented together. On the summit of the dome 

 has been placed longitudinally a number of weed 

 stalks, stripped midribs and pine needles, as a 

 kind of finishing touch to the work. Altogether 

 it is not unlike the thatched roof of an African 

 hut, or a "cap" that farmers place over their 

 shocks of wheat and corn to protect them from 

 the weather. Besides, the leaf-tent has been well 

 lashed down with hairs and fine roots, close 

 around the edge of the real nest, which, as I peer 

 into the small opening left for the entrance and 

 exit of the builders, I can see is lodged in a 

 hollow, so that the brim is even with the sur- 

 face of the ground. It is so dark within, and 

 the cavity so deep, that the contents can not be 

 seen. Accordingly, half ashamed of intruding 

 and prying into the affairs of their private his- 

 tory, I gently insert my finger within the oven 

 and feel four or five tfny eggs, which will soon be 

 done, no doubt, into as many golden crowns. 

 Singularly enough, the birds do not scold me for 

 my indecorous conduct, but the male, as I hurry 

 away from the spot, utters his "teacher, teacher, 

 teacher," in a suppressed tone, as if half afraid of 

 being heard, but yet not entirely able to withhold 

 an expression of glad relief from the brief but 

 severe season of anxiety. 



Day by day the mystic spell of incubation took 

 firmer hold of the mother. My few subsequent 



