ecause such interference is generally unwise. It turned out
that she had a nest of her own with five eggs in a spruce-tree near my
window.

Then this pair of little fly-catchers did what I had never seen birds
do before; they pulled the nest to pieces and rebuilt it in a peach-tree
not many rods away, where a brood was successfully reared. The nest was
here exposed to the direct rays of the noon-day sun, and to shield her
young when the heat was greatest, the mother-bird would stand above them
with wings slightly spread, as other birds have been know to do under
like circumstances.

To what extent the cat-bird is a nest-robber I have no evidence, but
that feline mew of hers, and that flirting, flexible tail, suggest
something not entirely bird-like.

Probably the darkest tragedy of the nest is enacted when a snake
plunders it. All birds and animals, so far I have observed, behave in
a peculiar manner toward a snake. They seem to feel something of the
loathing toward it that the human species experiences. The bark of a dog
when he encounters a snake is different from that which he gives out on
any other occasion; it is a mingled note of alarm, inquiry, and disgust.

One day a tragedy was enacted a few yards from where I was sitting with
a book; two song-sparrows trying to defend their nest against a black
snake. The curious, interrogating note of a chicken who had suddenly
come upon the scene in his walk caused me to look up from my reading.
There were the sparrows, with wings raised in a way peculiarly
expressive of horror and dismay, rushing about a low clump of grass and
bushes. Then, looking more closely, I saw the glistening form of the
black snake and the quick movement of his head as he tried to seize the
birds. The sparrows darted about and through the grass and weeds, trying
to beat the snake off. Their tails and wings were spread, and, panting
with the heat and the desperate struggle, they presented a most singular
spectacle. They uttered no cry, not a sound escaped them; they were
plainly speechless with horror and dismay. Not once did they drop their
wings, and the peculiar expression of those uplifted palms, as it were,
I shall never forget. It occurred to me that perhaps here was a case of
attempted bird-charming on the part of the snake, so I looked on from
behind the fence. The birds charged the snake and harassed him from
every side, but were evidently under no spell save that of courage in
defending