tation right before me, knowing full well that a person who
had helped them build their nest would never harm their little brood;
and it was a disappointment when I had to go away and leave the winning
family.

XVI.

IN OUR NEIGHBOR'S DOOR-YARD.

THE little German girl with the scarlet pinafore was a near neighbor,
living at the head of the valley in a cottage surrounded by great
live-oaks. These trees were alive with birds. Bush-tits flew back and
forth, busily hanging their gray pockets among the leafy folds of the
drooping branches; blue jays flew through, squawking on their way to the
brush; goldfinches, building in the orchard, lisped sweetly as they
rested in the oaks; and a handsome oriole who was building in the grove
flew overhead so slowly he seemed to be retarded by the fullness of his
own sweet song. But I had become so fond of the gentle gray titmouse
whose nest I had helped to build, that of all the bird songs in the
trees, its cheery _tu-whit', tu-whit', tu-whit'_ was most enticing to
me. How delightful it would be to watch another pair of the winning
workers! I did see one of the birds enter a hollow branch, one day, and
not long after saw it go down a hole in an oak trunk; but never saw it
afterwards in either place. Back and forth I followed that elusive
voice, hoping to discover the nest, but I suspect the bird was only
prospecting, and had not even begun to work.

The little German Gretchen became interested in the search for the
titmouse's nest, and told me that a gray bird had built in an oak in
front of her house. I rode right over to see it, but found the gray bird
a female Mexican bluebird, whose brilliant ultramarine mate sat on the
fence of the vegetable garden in plain sight. The children kept better
watch of the nest after that, and a few days later, when in my attic
study, I heard the tramp of a horse, and, looking out, found my little
friend under the window, come to tell me that the eggs had hatched. When
her older sister came for the washing I asked her if she had seen the
old birds go to the nest, and she said, "Yes; one was blue and the other
gray."

When I rode up again, the young had grown so that from the saddle I
could look down the hole and see their big mouths and bristling
pin-feathers. The mother bird was about the tree, and her soft dull
coloring toned in well with the gray bark. The bluebirds had a double
front door, and went in one side to come out the other. I