the old place.

I had not waited long before the chip of a young bird came from the
vines over the well. It proved a callow nestling, with no tail, and
little to mark its parentage. Presently a brown long-tailed wren-tit
came with food in its bill and peered down through the leaves at it; and
then a California towhee came and sat around till satisfied as to whose
child was crying. A moment later a lazuli bunting flew over with food in
her bill, and I at once bethought me of the lazuli-like markings, the
brownish wing-bars and the sharp cry of "quit," which none but a lazuli
could give. That surely was my bird.

But if so, what did this interest on the part of the wren-tit mean? She
hopped about the nestling with tail up and crest raised, chattering to
it in low mysterious tones; and when I suspected her of giving her worm
to it, suddenly turned her head and looked away with a suspiciously
non-committal air. The lazuli, however, sat indifferently on a branch
and plumed her feathers, though when she did fly down toward the young
one, the wren-tit gave way. But even then the lazuli did not feed the
small bird. When she had gone, the wren-tit came back. She spoke low to
the nestling, and drew it down into the thick part of the tangle where I
could not see them, though there was a hint of tiny quivering wings, and
I was morally certain that the old bird was feeding it, especially when
she flew up in sight with the smart air of having outwitted me.

I was getting more and more bewildered. What did it all mean? Were there
two families of young down in the tangle? If not, why were two old birds
feeding one little one, and to which mother did the child belong? The
wisdom of Solomon was needed to solve the riddle.

The wren-tit simply devoted herself to the little bird, going and coming
for it constantly; while the lazuli, ordinarily the most nervous noisy
bird when her young are disturbed, sat around silently, or flew away
without remark. I became so impressed by the wren-tit side of the case
that I quite forgot the lazuli note and markings.

Just as I thought I had come to a decision in the case, a male lazuli
flew in, lighting atilt of an acacia stalk opposite the wren-tit. But
when he saw me he craned his neck and flew off in a hurry--no father,
surely, scared away at the first glimpse of me! However, I was not clear
in my mind, and sat down to puzzle the matter out.

At this juncture Madame Lazuli came with food; the y