ground, in the crotch of a white birch. The support was formed by the
main trunk and several ascending, rudimentary branches. When I looked
up into the tree a tiny, fluffy mass of white birch curls attracted my
attention. On this cushion the nest was shaped of similar curls of
white birch bark and partially decomposed inner bark, fiber; the rim,
firm and well modeled, consisted of what looked like split culms of
hay, but I decided that it must be the outside of decayed goldenrod
stems. It was lined with horse hair, human hair, and the feathers of
the female. A daintier, warmer, safer, little cradle no bird could
desire.

Another nest, located in a maple five feet high from the ground, was
placed on a foundation of dead leaves, coarse meadow grass, and white
birch bark. The cup was constructed of fine cedar bark fiber; the
outside was ornamented with the white egg cases of some insect. The
nest had a beautifully turned brim of the same material as was used in
the former nest. The lining, likewise, was of goldenrod fiber, and a
few of the green and yellow feathers of the female. As usual, more or
less spider's floss entered into the composition of this well-made
structure. The dwelling strikingly corresponded in color with the gray
maple crotch that supported it. Each house was well adapted to its
surroundings.

The female builds the nest almost unassisted and appears, likewise to
incubate and brood the young. The male, however, sings from his varied
repertoire to cheer his mate at her task, and assists the female in
feeding the young and cleansing the domicile, but when disturbed by an
observer, the female is more assiduous than the male in her attentions
to their offspring.

[Illustration]

Usually when a person attempts to inspect a redstart's nest containing
young, the female drops from the nest a dead weight and falls from
branch to branch of any tree in the way, striking the ground with a
dull thud. Her next move is to trail a helpless wing along the ground.
At another time she flies from the nest and alights on the ground with
spread wings and tail. The yellow markings on the wing and tail show
conspicuously as the bird moves forward by the wings, as if her legs
were too weak to sustain her weight. At the same time the bird twitters
very softly, almost inaudibly; in other words, she feigns the
helplessness of a young bird. These pretty deceptions, the expression
of the mother instinct, always appeal to me very