takable. She owned that nest
and that baby, there could not be a doubt, and the dapper little
personage with chestnut sides was an interloper.

Nearly two hours we watched every movement of the small actors in this
strange drama, and in seeking food they often came within six feet of us
on our own level, so that we could not mistake their identity.

The poor little mamma was in deep distress. Although her mate was
absent, she resented her neighbor's efforts to help in her work, and
dashed at him furiously every time she saw him come. Yet she could not
stay on guard, for upon her alone devolved the duty of feeding that
nestling! So she rushed frantically hither and thither in mad redstart
fashion, brought her morsel and administered it, and then darted angrily
after the enemy, who appeared as often as she did, every time with a
tidbit for that pampered youngster.

This double duty seemed almost too much for the redstart. Her feathers
were ruffled, her tail opened and shut nervously, and at every interval
that she could spare from her breathless exertions she uttered in low
tones the redstart song, as though calling on that missing lord of hers.

And where was that much needed personage? Had he been killed in these
carefully protected and fenced woods, where no guns or collectors were
allowed, and trespass notices were as plentiful as blackberries? Not by
shooting we were sure; we should have heard a gun at the house. Had,
then, an owl paid a twilight visit, and could a redstart be surprised?
Or could, perchance, a squirrel have stolen upon him unaware? We shall
never know. There's no morning paper to chronicle the tragedies in the
bird world; and it would be too pitiful reading if there were.

The most curious thing about the whole performance was the behavior of
the chestnut-sided. His manner was as unruffled as Madam's was excited.
The most just and honorable cause in the world could not give more
absolute self-possession, more dignified persistence, than was shown by
this wonderful atom of a bird. He acknowledged her right to reprove him,
for he vanished before her outraged motherhood every time; but the
moment the chase ended he fell to collecting food, and by the time his
assailant had given her bantling a morsel, he was ready with another.

What could be his motive? Was he a charity-mad personage, such as we
sometimes see among bigger folk, determined to benefit his kind, whether
they would or no? Had he, perc