82 A DAY IN JUNE 



was made to deceive or distract attention, but chilling, 

 disagreeable fact suggests that the wood was found 

 too hard. The successful excavation is higher up, 

 and there she is already, alarmed at the stealthy 

 approach, looking down with bright, round, startled 

 eyes at the great, threatening intruder. A 

 moment, and the staring spell is broken — she glides 

 boldly out and wings her irregular course beyond 

 the sheltering Maples in the crowding foreground. 

 A slender arm can explore the rough tunnel in the 

 wood, and down at the bottom is a little, solitary 

 egg. The tiny object of her solicitude is brought 

 forth to the light. It is pure white — so pure and 

 translucent in the sun's rays that the yelk within 

 gives it an elusive yellow tint, but in the shade its 

 clear whiteness returns. With a care that even the 

 startled bird could not surpass it is replaced, and with 

 apologies unexpressed the intruders retire, ^ain 

 the passing flash of yellow and white shows how 

 anxiously and carefully she has been watching. She 

 enters eagerly, and, after an anxious half-minute, 

 comes forth again, happily satisfied in the safety of 

 her treasure. 



The Indigo Bunting is among the pleasant summer 

 songsters, but it is only by an accidental meeting in a 

 shady spot that his handsome colour can be appreci- 

 ated. In the warmth of summer even little Chippie, 

 with his chattering trill, has a place among the 



