CHAPTER IY. 
BBEEDIHG. 
There, in sweet thraldom, yet unweening why, 
The patient dam, who ne’er till now had known 
Parental instinct, brooded o’er her eggs 
Long ere she found the curious secret out, 
That life was hatching in their brittle shells.” 
Montgomery. 
The last straw carried and skilfully interwoven, and a 
burst of joyous song from the male, proclaims the work 
complete. The loving pair sit side by side caressing and 
warbling—aye, possibly talking over the future of the 
coming brood, already germing in the warm heart of the 
future mother. Tenderly the male peers into the finished 
nest at the pretty eggs so cosily and safely housed, the 
very sight of which gladdens his heart. Bright and clear 
he now gives forth his most jubilant melody, while his 
partner sits by and listens, with all-absorbing interest. 
Then the pair fly to and fro, peeping silently again and 
again at the eggs, as though fully to assure themselves if 
the happy fact is really true ! Again the warm love rises 
and courting begins afresh; the wooing, the shy denial, 
the pleading glance, are all renewed until the loved one 
is won anew and victory crowns the happy swain. 
This may sound poetical, but it is a faithful 
picture nevertheless. Exactly as we have described it, is 
