164 
NATURE NOTES. 
dissatisfied movements and repeated whirls towards and around 
me. Finally she lighted on a shred of straw which she picked 
up in her beak and literally seemed to show me. A handful of 
hay soon made them both happy, and business began, after various 
interruptions, in earnest. The eggs were laid and sat upon till 
within a few days of hatching, and then, alas, the bough partially 
slipped from its holding. How these birds begged to have 
it put right for them again ; but no one was present at the precise 
time it fell, and though it was replaced as soon as the mishap 
was discovered, it was too late. The birds returned to the nest 
the instant the bough was firm with many protestations of joy, 
but in a few days deserted the nest, and upon examination the 
eggs were found to contain two perfect little birds dead within a 
day or two of their hatching. After this my poor little birds 
lost heart and could not agree upon rebuilding. For some time 
they tossed and mooted the question, sometimes deciding for, 
sometimes against. Then came quarrels ; one was intent upon 
a second attempt, the other absolutely and steadily refused, 
would not even make pretence by carrying hay about in its beak. 
Their relations became strained ; Quirrel tried to explain something 
to me, but I was stupid and could not understand. Then one day 
there was a tragedy unprecedented in my experience of bird life. 
One morning news was brought me that missel lay dead in a 
corner literally scalped. Poor little bird ! it was a sad ending, 
and I reproached myself for not having taken more pains to see 
how matters stood. 
Well, I was very angry with Quirrel, who was now gaiety 
and happiness itself, in sole possession of her home. I felt I 
should never lose her again (but in a short time I did). I opened 
the window so that she might take her freedom if she would, but 
she would not. Then I closed it and kept her safe through the 
winter. I thought when the spring season came round she would 
feel her loneliness, so I again gave her her chance of freedom, 
that she might join the wild missel thrushes I heard so often 
calling to her in the trees near — and she answered them — they 
might come to her if they liked, but she would not go to them. 
Just at this time we had a wounded and half-starved owl 
given to us, for whom the bird house was wanted, so Quirrel 
was moved to the pigeon house — a large wire-netted enclosure. 
Here she was happier than happy, and though she might still 
have taken her freedom any day, and the missels called to her 
hourly from the spring-foliaged trees, she never looked that way. 
One morning on going to the pigeon house I was startled to 
see one of the largest white common pigeons smeared with blood, 
and with its beak still bleeding. “ Brutes of rats! ” I exclaimed, 
not knowing whom else to blame ; but at that moment, hearing 
rather a rumpus going on, I looked round and saw the recreant 
Quirrel with her claws fastened firmly on to the breast of my pet 
brown pigeon (who was guarding the entrance to her young), 
pecking away mightily, and Bijou powerless in the claws of her 
