indicated by a
purer white on the breast and a not fully grown tail. Moreover, he was
not so deft in movement as the experienced matron he defied; he was
almost clumsy, in fact, having some difficulty in man[oe]uvring his
unwieldy beak and getting his head into the tube, and being much
disconcerted by the swaying of the blossoms in the breeze. Youth and
innocence were shown, too, in the manner of the little stranger toward
my lady. He approached her in a confiding way, as if expecting a
welcome, and was plainly astonished at being attacked instead. Indeed,
he apparently could not believe his repulse was serious, for he soon
returned in the most friendly spirit, and utterly refused to be driven
away.
After making myself well acquainted with the manners and ways of Madam
Ruby-throat, and noting that she always took her departure in exactly
the same direction and at quite regular intervals, I began to suspect
that she had important business somewhere; probably a nest, possibly a
pair of twin babies. Should I undertake the hopeless task of seeking
that tiny lichen-covered cradle, so nearly resembling a thousand knots
and other protuberances that one might as easily find the proverbial
needle in a hay-stack, or should I turn my attention to other inviting
quarters on the place? While I hesitated, balancing the attractions,
madam herself chanced to give me a hint. One morning, as I was watching
her steady flight across the lawn, I caught a decided upward swerve of
the gleaming line, and instantly resolved to take the hint, if such it
were. I went quietly to a pear-tree on her course, and waited for the
next point, if she chose to give it. She did; she was most
obliging,--may I venture to say friendly? Almost immediately she
passed me, and alighted on one of a row of tall trees that lined the
road. There she hovered for a moment, giving sharp digs at one spot, as
though detaching something, and then flew straight along the line to an
immense silver poplar.
[Sidenote: _SHE SHOWED ME THE NEST._]
Here at last the bird settled, and a wild hope sprang up in my heart.
Stealing nearer to the tree without taking my eyes from the spot;
ignoring the danger of pitfalls in my path, of holes to fall into and
rocks to fall over, of briers to scratch and snakes to bite, I drew as
near as I dared, and then cautiously raised my glass to my eyes, and
behold! the nest with my lady upon it! The thrill of that moment none
but a fellow bird-
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