like a
feather, apparently trying to take out everything that the egg had
soiled.

When the little housekeeper was working over her nest, a brown towhee
flew into the tree. On the instant there was a flash of wings--the gnat
was ready for war. But after a fair look at the big peaceful bird, she
flew to the next tree without a word--she evidently knew friends from
enemies. I never liked the towhee so well before. But though the
blue-gray had nothing to say against her neighbor sitting up in the tree
if he chose, her nerves were so unstrung that when she lit in the next
tree she cried out "tsang" in an overburdened tone. It sounded so unlike
the usual cry of the light-hearted bird, it quite made me sad.

Whether the poor little gnatcatchers did not recover from this attack
upon their home, and took their nest to pieces to put it up elsewhere,
as birds sometimes do; or whether the stealthy wren-tit again crept in
like a thief in the night to plunder his neighbor's house, I do not
know; but the next time I went to the oak the nest was demolished. It
was a sorry ending for what had promised to be such an interesting and
happy home.

My poor dove's nest had a tragic end, too. What happened I do not know,
but one day the body of a poor little pigeon lay on the ground under the
nest. My sympathies went out to both mothers, but especially to the
gentle dove, now a mourner, indeed.

FOOTNOTE:

[2] As this little pair dressed like twins, I could only infer which was
which from the song and the actions of the two, which were quite
distinct.

IV.

WAS IT A SEQUEL?

AFTER the wren-tit stole in like a thief in the night and broke up the
pretty home of the gnatcatchers, I suspected that they took their house
down to put it up again in a safer place, and so was constantly on the
lookout to find where that safer place was. At last, one day, I heard
the welcome sound of their familiar voices, and following their calls
finally discovered them flying back and forth to a high branch on an old
oak-tree; both little birds working and talking together. Mind, I do not
stake my word on this being the same pair of gnats; but the nest
followed closely on the heels of the plundered one, which was a point in
its favor, and, being anxious to take up the lines with my small friends
again, I let myself think they were the birds of the sand ditch nest. It
was such a delight to find them that I deserted the nest I had been
watching, an