em flying hither and thither with feathers, small pieces of straw,
or twigs, in their beaks. About this time also, the Blackbird himself
felt a strong desire to have a nest of his own. But how could he build
it by himself? He must find a partner to share his labours--and where
could he find such a partner? He was almost in despair, so at last he
determined to pour out his desire in song, as he perched one morning on
the branch of a budding hawthorn.

He sang his sweetest, his very best, and as the song was borne along on
the bright morning air, and then died away, he became aware of a tender
little note, a faint twitter which came from a branch immediately
beneath him. He looked down, and, lo and behold, there, half concealed
by spreading boughs, was a bird like himself, another Blackbird! This
stranger Blackbird was very attractive-looking, but its plumage was not
quite so bright or black as his own. Its bill, too, was more brown than
yellow, and the orange streaks round the eyes were of a greenish hue.
But notwithstanding these slight differences, the bird which now hopped
down on the grass, and answered his song by if possible a sweeter
warble, was both handsome and winning. The Blackbird was delighted to
have thus found so immediate a response to his petition, and he was very
soon on the grass beside the interesting stranger. On nearer approach he
found that this Blackbird had gentle eyes, and was indeed altogether
very bewitching, so without any hesitation he proposed that they should
build a nest together! His offer was shyly accepted, and then came the
important question, where to build?

The Blackbird was anxious not to be too far from his little friends
Willie and Alice. They had been so kind to him during the winter, that
he would fain see something of them still, and sing them his best
songs, now that he had his voice back again. He had watched them the day
before, as they trotted hand-in-hand along the home-meadow where the
snowdrops and crocuses grew. They had pulled some of the white and
yellow blossoms, and had then stood still to listen to the flute-like
voice of an unseen minstrel. Hand-in-hand they listened; the little boy
with his large brown eyes fixed on the tree from whence came the song,
the little girl with her baby-face uplifted, and one pink finger held up
as much as to say "Hush! hush!"

The song ended, the Blackbird flew out from the shelter of the thick
fir-tree where he had been concealed