A FOSTER BABY 
moment, from a hole in the side of a low 
stump just in front of me, out popped a 
chickadee ! Another nest ! This bird was 
not at all afraid, and sat on top of the stump 
only two feet from the ground, evidently 
annoyed yet not disposed to resent the in- 
trusion. He seemed to divine that my 
interest was friendly, for after a moment 
he was off, hunting flies and small green 
worms on a neighboring tree. Lying down 
close by, I watched his diplomatic manceu- 
vres through half-closed eyes. He came 
very near on a branch which hung low over 
me, chattering and scolding saucily in great 
curiosity. Evidently he was suspicious, and 
wished to prove the reality of my feigned 
sleep. Picking up worm after worm, he ate 
them in full view, as if to convince me that 
the chief end of his existence was to satisfy 
his own hunger. But I knew better. That 
small round hole in the stump guarded 
treasures infinite, and sooner or later father 
love would prevail against discretion. Mean- 
while the mother bird, for so I judged her 
