ort rest on a twig in the sun, while she plumed her
feathers. She made nest-making seem very pleasant work.

One day, wanting to experiment, I put a handful of oak blossoms on the
nest. They covered the cup and hung down over the sides. When the small
builder came, she hovered over it a few seconds before making up her
mind how it got there and what she had better do about it. Then she
calmly lit on top of it! Part of it went off as she did so, but the rest
she appropriated, fastening in the loose ends with the cobweb she had
brought.

She often gave a little squeaky call when on the nest, as if talking to
herself about her work. When going off for material she would dart away
and then, as if it suddenly occurred to her that she did not know where
she was going, would stop and stand perfectly still in the air, her
vibrating wings sustaining her till she made up her mind, when she would
shoot off at an angle. It seemed as if she would be worn out before
night, but her eyes were bright and she looked vigorous enough to build
half a dozen houses.

"There's odds in folks," our great-grandmothers used to say; and there
certainly is in bird folks; even in the ways of the same one at
different times. Now this hummingbird was content to build right in
front of my eyes, and the hummer down at the little lover's tree, with
her first nest, was so indifferent to Billy and me that I took no pains
to keep at a distance or disguise the fact that I was watching her. But
when her nest was destroyed she suddenly grew old in the ways of the
world, and apparently repented having trusted us. In any case, I got a
lesson on being too prying. The first nest had not been down long before
I found that a second one was being built only a few feet away--by the
same bird? I imagined so. The nest was only just begun, and being
especially interested to see how such buildings were started, I rode
close up to watch the work. A roll of yellow sycamore down was wound
around a twig, and the bottom of the nest--the floor--attached to the
underside of this beam; with such a solid foundation, the walls could
easily be supported.

The small builder came when Billy and I were there. She did not welcome
us as old friends, but sat down on her floor and looked at us--and I
never saw her there again. Worse than that, she took away her nest,
presumably to put it down where she thought inquisitive reporters would
not intrude. I was disappointed and grieved, havi