trying to outdo the other. The game is a brief one.
Before one can get the clew to it, the party has dispersed.

* * * * *

The first year of my cabin life a pair of robins attempted to build a
nest upon the round timber that forms the plate under my porch roof. But
it was a poor place to build in. It took nearly a week's time and caused
the birds a great waste of labor to find this out. The coarse material
they brought for the foundation would not bed well upon the rounded
surface of the timber, and every vagrant breeze that came along swept it
off. My porch was kept littered with twigs and weed-stalks for days,
till finally the birds abandoned the undertaking. The next season a
wiser or more experienced pair made the attempt again, and succeeded.
They placed the nest against the rafter where it joins the plate; they
used mud from the start to level up with and to hold the first twigs and
straws, and had soon completed a firm, shapely structure. When the young
were about ready to fly, it was interesting to note that there was
apparently an older and a younger, as in most families. One bird was
more advanced than any of the others. Had the parent birds intentionally
stimulated it with extra quantities of food, so as to be able to launch
their offspring into the world one at a time? At any rate, one of the
birds was ready to leave the nest a day and a half before any of the
others. I happened to be looking at it when the first impulse to get
outside the nest seemed to seize it. Its parents were encouraging it
with calls and assurances from some rocks a few yards away. It answered
their calls in vigorous, strident tones. Then it climbed over the edge
of the nest upon the plate, took a few steps forward, then a few more,
till it was a yard from the nest and near the end of the timber, and
could look off into free space. Its parents apparently shouted, "Come
on!" But its courage was not quite equal to the leap; it looked around,
and, seeing how far it was from home, scampered back to the nest, and
climbed into it like a frightened child. It had made its first journey
into the world, but the home tie had brought it quickly back. A few
hours afterward it journeyed to the end of the plate again, and then
turned and rushed back. The third time its heart was braver, its wings
stronger, and, leaping into the air with a shout, it flew easily to some
rocks a dozen or more yards away. Each of the youn