bird reappeared with another mate. Ah! how the
wren stock went down then! What dismay and despair filled again those
little breasts! It was pitiful. They did not scold as before, but
after a day or two withdrew from the garden, dumb with grief, and gave
up the struggle.

The bluebird, finding her eggs gone and her nest changed, seemed
suddenly seized with alarm and shunned the box; or else, finding she
had less need for another husband than she thought, repented her
rashness and wanted to dissolve the compact. But the happy bridegroom
would not take the hint, and exerted all his eloquence to comfort and
reassure her. He was fresh and fond, and until this bereaved female
found him I am sure his suit had not prospered that season. He thought
the box just the thing, and that there was no need of alarm, and spent
days in trying to persuade the female back. Seeing he could not be a
stepfather to a family, he was quite willing to assume a nearer
relation. He hovered about the box, he went in and out, he called, he
warbled, he entreated; the female would respond occasionally and come
and alight near, and even peep into the nest, but would not enter it,
and quickly flew away again. Her mate would reluctantly follow, but he
was soon back, uttering the most confident and cheering calls. If she
did not come he would perch above the nest and sound his loudest notes
over and over again, looking in the direction of his mate and
beckoning with every motion. But she responded less and less
frequently. Some days I would see him only, but finally he gave it up;
the pair disappeared, and the box remained deserted the rest of the
summer.

1867

VIII

THE INVITATION

Years ago, when quite a youth, I was rambling in the woods one Sunday,
with my brothers, gathering black birch, wintergreens, etc., when, as
we reclined upon the ground, gazing vaguely up into the trees, I
caught sight of a bird, that paused a moment on a branch above me, the
like of which I had never before seen or heard of. It was probably the
blue yellow-backed warbler, as I have since found this to be a common
bird in those woods; but to my young fancy it seemed like some fairy
bird, so unexpected. I saw it a moment as the flickering leaves
parted, noted the white spot on its wing, and it was gone. How the
thought of it clung to me afterward! It was a revelation. It was the
first intimation I had had that the woods we knew so well held birds
that we knew not at