e.

The advent of the first redbird baby seemed to give much pleasure, for
the head of the family sang a good deal in the intervals of feeding; and
both of the pair appeared very happy over it, often alighting beside the
wanderer, evidently to encourage him, for they did not always feed. The
youngster, after an hour, perhaps, flew about ten feet to a peach-tree,
where he struggled violently, and nearly fell before he secured a hold
on a twig. Both parents flew to his assistance, but he did not fall, and
soon after he flew to a grape trellis, and, with a little clambering, to
a stem of the vine, where he seemed pleased to stay,--perhaps because
this overlooked the garden whence came all his food.

I stayed two or three hours with the little family, and then left them;
and when I appeared the next morning all were gone from the nest. I
heard the gentle cries of young redbirds all around, but did not try to
look them up, both because I did not want to worry the parents, and
because I had already made acquaintance with young cardinals in my four
o'clock studies.

The place this discerning pair of birds had selected in which to
establish themselves was one of the most charming nooks in the vicinity.
Kept free from English sparrows (by persistently destroying their
nests), and having but a small and quiet family, it was the delight of
cardinals and catbirds. Without taking pains to look for them, one might
see the nests of two catbirds, two wood doves, a robin or two, and
others; and there were beside, thickets, the delight of many birds, and
a row of spruces so close that a whole flock might have nested there in
security. In that spot "the quaintly discontinuous lays" of the catbird
were in perfection; one song especially was the best I ever heard,
being louder and more clear than catbirds usually sing.

As I turned to leave the grounds, the relieved parent, who had not
relished my interest in his little folk, mounted a branch, and,

"Like a pomegranate flower
In the dark foliage of the cedar-tree,
Shone out and sang for me."

And thus I left him.

XI.

LITTLE BOY BLUE.

"The crested blue jay flitting swift."

To know the little boy blue in his domestic life had been my desire for
years. In vain did I search far and wide for a nest, till it began to
look almost as if the bird intentionally avoided me. I went to New
England, and blue jays disappeared as if by magic; I turned my steps to
the Rocky Mou