ok, from which Billy could be heard
stamping his feet to shake off the flies. The little crack in the
chaparral was a pleasant place to sit in, protected as it was from the
wind, with the sun only coming in enough to touch up the brown leaves on
the ground and warm the fragrant sage, bringing out its delicious spicy
aromatic smell.

The pewee did not altogether relish having us established under its vine
and fig-tree. When it saw Billy under the tree it whistled, and the bit
of grass it had brought for its nest went sailing down to the brush
disregarded. It did not think us as bad as the blue jay, however, for it
came back with a long stem of grass in its bill, and, lighting on a high
branch, called _pee-ree_. To be sure, when it had gone to the nest and I
was inconsiderate enough to turn a page in my note-book, it dashed off.
But if murder will out, so will good intentions; and before long the
timid bird was brooding its nest with Billy and me for spectators.

The gnat's nest here was so much lower than the other one that it was
much easier to watch. The first day the birds built rapidly. One of them
got his spider's web from beside the pewee's nest, when the pewee was
away. He started to go for it once after the owner had returned, caught
sight of him, stopped short, and much to my amusement concluded to sit
down and preen his feathers! The pewee had one special bare twig of his
own that he used for a perch, and when the gnat seated himself there in
his neighbor's absence he looked so small that I realized what a mite of
a bird he really was. He sometimes sat there and talked while his mate
moulded the nest.

When the gnats got to brooding, many of the same pretty performances
were repeated that had marked the first nest of all, up in the sand
ditch. When the bird on the nest hopped out and called, "Come, come,"
its mate, who had been wandering around in the sunny green treetop,
called out in sweet tones, "Good-by, good-by."

When waiting for the gnats to do something, I heard a little sound in
the oak brush by my side, and, looking through the brown branches, saw a
wren-tit come hopping toward me. It came up within three feet of me,
near enough to see its bright yellow eyes. I began to wonder if it had a
nest near by, and felt my prejudices melting away and my heart growing
tender. Some thieves are very honest fellows; it is largely a difference
in ethical standards! I began to feel a keen interest in the bird and