THE PROFESSOR’S VICTIM. 
97 
or speckles about tho larger end. The com- 
monest, that of the red-eyed vireo, is built 
from five to twenty feet above tlio ground. 
It is sometimes ornamented outwardly, but 
two or three typical specimens before me 
consist merely of strips of bark, such, as that 
from grape-vines, somewhat coated with in- 
sects’ silk, and are lined with pine needles. 
A very pretty one is made of white birch 
bark, and another of green isli-gray tree-moss. 
In contrast to the typical forms just mention- 
ed is the larger and substantial nest of the 
yellow-throated vireo, often found iu the 
orchard, and profusely covered outside with 
mosses .and lichens held together by silk. 
It is one of the finest specimens of bird 
architecture that we. have. The white-eyed 
vireo ( Vireo noveboracensis) builds near the 
ground, usually in a bush or sapliug, and 
often in a very open spot. Sometimes its 
nest, like that of the red-eyed vireo, is large- 
ly made up of paper from wasps’ nests, or 
of newspaper, whence both species have 
been called “ politician-birds.” A very fine 
specimen, found iu a birch about two feet 
from the ground, is shown on page 96. It is 
composed of fine vegetable shreds, caterpil- 
lars’ silk, cocoons, and bits of dead wood, 
ferns, and leaves. Some vireos allow you to 
pass under their nests, or stand near them, 
without exhibiting alarm, and if robbed, re- 
main near the spot, coming within a foot or 
two of your person. One has been known 
to remain on her nest when it was carried 
off from the tree. I have sometimes put my 
hand on sitting birds. I regret that I have 
not enough space left to describe at length 
the pensile nests which are globular ; those 
built by the marsh wrens, of rushes (or the 
like, and usually mud), among marsh reeds 
or meadow-grasses ; and those built of hang- 
ing moss in evergreens by the little blue 
yellow-backed warblers. There is on page 
92 an illustration of a nest very rarely found, 
that of the golden-crowned wren ( Begulus 
satrapa). It is composed chiefly of hanging 
moss, but is warmly lined with feathers. 
THE PROFESSOR’S VICTIM. 
“ r g 1IIE RE is a mystery in that woman’s 
I life,” said tlio professor — “a mystery 
that when I do think upon, I get what you 
Americans call a crick in the brain.” 
“ Yes, professor,” I said, meekly, although 
I had never iu my life heard an American 
use the expression. But the professor went 
into altogether different society from that 
in which I was allowed to mingle, and I 
dare say they had a language of their own. 
I was merely a dress-maker. To bo sure, I 
had good customers, and as many as I could 
well get along with, so that I had no occa- 
sion to put out a sign. Miss Winthrop was 
so glad of this. She said she didn’t know 
how she could board with me if I kept a 
You LV. — No. 325.-7 
sign at the door. It was bad enough for 
her to know how hard I worked, and what 
a wretched life I led ; it was enough for her 
to pity mo; it would be unendurable if the 
whole neighborhood should be called upon 
to extend me their sympathy. I think 
Miss Winthrop was mistaken. I am confi- 
dent there were many people in our vicinity 
who would have been glad to have fared no 
worse than I. But Miss Winthrop had pe- 
culiar views about labor. I never contra- 
dicted her. The professor and she were 
wrangling always and forever. They nev- 
er agreed upon any subject. He was there 
almost every day of his life. Miss Winthrop 
Avas studying at the Institute ; but she ayus 
not a A r ery ardent student, and used to be 
at home the most of the time, so that when 
the professor got through at the college 
and conservatory, he came generally direct 
to the house. It Avould haA r e seemed strange 
and sad not to haA r e seen him at least once 
in the twenty-four hours. 
I remember that day so well. I had been 
more than usually perplexed in cutting and 
fitting. The left side of Miss Van Coot had 
to be padded all the way up to the shoul- 
der, and in some unaccountable way I had 
mistaken the left for the right, so that Avhen 
she put on the basque, I should have laugh- 
ed if I had not cried. I was nervous and 
worked out, I suppose ; and as she stood 
there, poor creature ! not knowing what a 
spectacle she was, it Avas all I could do to 
keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks. 
“ I shall haA r o to take it all apart, Miss 
Van Coot,” I said. “ It will take me at least 
an hour. You might as well get through 
your shopping, and come back again.” 
She went off in her carriage, and I began 
to rip out the stitches. The morning was 
cloudy and overcast ; and as I got near to 
the window to see, I could not help think- 
ing what a miserable world it Avas, Avhen all 
at once a big shadoAV loomed up beside me, 
and a familiar voice cried out : 
“ Who is it has made thee to weep ? GRe 
me their bones that I may crack them.” 
And then I fell to laughing. Suddenly 
the morning seemed to be bright and beau- 
tiful, the form of Miss Van Coot shapely 
enough, if only I Avould not be stupid, and 
mistake the right side for tho left. As for 
tlio professor, lie was like a demigod made 
out of flesh and blood — a great deal of fine 
wholesome flesh and gallons of splendid 
blood. I could not help thinking, in my 
sordid Avay, that the professor’s tailor, who- 
ever he might be, Avas a wondrous lucky 
man ; for nobody but tlmso Avliose trade it 
is to puzzle and design for tho human anat- 
omy can have the least idea of Iioav fearful- 
ly and Avonderfully avo are made. Tho pro- 
fessor was resplendent in a new raiment of 
some soft gray material that suited well his 
fine complexion and ruddy hair. In his but- 
