e--she hesitated and looked around timidly
before getting courage to go in; and on leaving the nest flew away in
nervous haste; but she was soon back again, and ready to take the
feathers down inside the oak. She caught hold of the tip of one that was
wedged into a crack, and tugged and tugged till I was afraid she would
get discouraged and go off without it. She got it, however, and drew it
in backwards. Then she attacked another feather, but finding that it
came harder than the first, let go her hold and took an easier one. She
was not to be daunted, though, and after stowing away the loose one came
back for the tight one again, and persevered till she bent it in several
places, besides breaking off the tip.

When she had flown off, I jumped up, ran to the oak, and stuffed the
doorway full of feathers. Before I had finished, the family sentinel
caught me--I had been in too much of a hurry and he had heard me walking
over the cornstalks. He eyed me suspiciously and gave vent to his
disapproval, but I addressed him in such friendly terms that he soon
flew off and talked to his mate reassuringly, as if he had decided that
it was all right after all. After their conversation she came back and
made the best of her way right down through the feather-bed! I went away
delighted with her perseverance, and charmed by her confidence and
pretty performances.

The next day I heard the titmouse singing in an elder by the kitchen,
and went out to see how the birds acted when gathering their own
material. The songster was idly hunting through the branches, singing,
while his mate--busy little housewife--was hard at work getting her
building stuff. She had something in her beak when I caught sight of
her, but in an instant was down on the ground after another bit. Then
she flew up in the tree looking among the leaves; in passing she swung
a moment on a strap hanging from a branch; then flew down among the
weeds, back up in the tree again; and so back and forth, over and over,
her bill getting fuller and fuller.

I was glad to save her work, and interested to see how far she would
accept my help. Once when I blocked the entrance with feathers and
horsehair she stopped, and, though her bill was full, picked up the
packet and flew out on a branch with it. Was she going to throw away my
present? For a moment my faith in her was shaken. Perhaps her mate had
been warning her to beware of me. She did drop the mat of
horsehair--what did su