y suspicion or jealousy. On these occasions, too,
he came quite near me, stood fearless and calm, and studied me most
sharply, doubtless to see if my intentions were innocent. Of course I
looked as amiable and harmless as possible, and in a moment he decided
that I was not dangerous, made some quiet remark to his fussy little
partner, and flew away.

Sometimes this conduct did not reassure the uneasy bird, and she called
again. Then he brought some tidbit in his beak, went to the edge of the
nest, and fed her. Then she was pacified; but do not mistake her, it was
not hunger that prompted her actions; when she was hungry, she openly
left her nest and went for food. It was, as I am convinced, the longing
desire to know that he was near her, that he was still anxious to serve
her, that he had not forgotten her in her long absence from his side.
This may sound a little fanciful to one who has not studied birds
closely, but she was so "human" in all her actions that I feel justified
in judging of her motives exactly as I should judge had she measured
five feet instead of five inches, and worn silk instead of feathers.

The goldfinch need not have worried about her mate, for he spent most of
his time within a few feet of her, and more absolutely loyal one could
not be. His most common perch was a neighboring tree, though in a heavy
beating rain he frequently crouched on the lowest branch of the plum
itself. Now and then he rested on a pile of boards beside the farm road
already spoken of, and again he took his post on a very tall ash, with
only a few limbs at the top, where his body looked like a dot against
the blue, and he could oversee the whole country around. Wherever he
might be, he sat all puffed out, silent and motionless, evidently just
waiting. Sometimes he took occasion to plume himself very carefully,
oftener he did nothing, but held himself in readiness to answer any call
from the plum-tree, and to accompany the sitter out to dinner.

This bird was an enchanting singer. During courtship, and while his mate
was sitting, he often poured out a song that was nothing less than an
ecstasy. It was delivered on the wing, and not in his usual wave-like
manner of flight, but sailing slowly around and around, very much as a
bobolink does, singing rapturously, without pause or break. The quality
of the music, too, was strikingly like bobolink notes, and the whole
performance was exquisite.

The little sitter soon became a