, and winged his way across the
meadow.

"Our Blackbird!" cried the little boy, exultingly. "Our Blackbird!"

"Dicky! dicky!" shouted the little girl, and then they ran home
delighted.

Yes, this songster was their own particular Blackbird, there was no
doubt about it; and did it not behove him to build his nest as near
their home as he possibly could?

After a short consultation, the pair of Blackbirds set off on an
exploring expedition. First of all they carefully examined the ivy which
covered an old wall near the stables: but they did not consider the
stems of the ivy were quite strong enough to support their nest. They
then looked at some laurel-bushes. But no, these would not do. The
position was too exposed, the branches were much too far apart, their
nest would soon be discovered. Then a very compact little evergreen bush
on the lawn in front of the old house caught their eyes. It was thick
and well grown, every branch was covered, so that a nest could not be
seen by the passers-by. Yes, it was the very place for them, there they
might build in security, and at the same time watch their dear little
friends as they went out and about each day. They carefully inspected
each bough of the said bush, and then, having chosen a spot at the lower
end of a branch where it joined the main stem, they set to work to build
in right good earnest. Small twigs, the waifs and strays of last autumn,
strewed the ground in a little wilderness hard by, and thither the
Blackbirds repaired. Hour after hour both might be seen flitting
between the wood and their chosen bush, with twigs in their yellow
beaks. These they neatly laid on the branch, and then twisted them in
and out, and round and round each other, and then a little moss and a
few soft fibres were added to the harder twigs. The whole fabric soon
began to assume a round, nest-like appearance. It grew fair and shapely,
and the exultant Blackbird paused to pour forth a "clear, mellow, bold
song," as he alighted for a moment on the summit of the Deodor. Then he
and his gentle partner, feeling the "keen demands of appetite,"
determined to go and refresh themselves with some food, and they
repaired to a field not very far off.

There they found the Rook hopping along the freshly-turned furrows,
eagerly picking up the grubs which had been brought to the surface by
the plough-share. The repast did not look very inviting,--those small,
gray grubs! But it was the Rook's favourit