IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 
I have almost neglected to mention one of the main features 
of this particular morning. In all my bird walks I had never 
been fortunate enough to discover an indigo bunting’s nest. I 
have seen hundreds of these beautiful birds, and listened to 
their rather tiresome songs on many a hot August afternoon, 
when the rest of our songsters were silent and seeking the cool 
shade of the woods. But this wonderful June morning must 
have been my lucky one, for I almost stumbled on one of the 
neatest nests I have ever found. As I passed by some shrubs, a 
sparrow-like little bird flushed from the midst of them. Such 
action on the part of a bird aroused my suspicion, which was 
verified by the finding of the nest. It contained four pale bluish 
eggs. The nest itself was a cup of grasses, lined with horse hair 
and fine rootlets. I was not certain of the identity of the owner 
of this neat little home until I saw the male indigo bunting in 
company with the bird that had flown the nest, just above me 
in a small elm, anxiously watching my every move. Not wish¬ 
ing to unnecessarily keep the mother bird from her eggs, I 
marked the place and withdrew, hoping to be able to peep into 
the domestic affairs of a pair of indigo buntings a week or so 
later. 
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