rs.

The next day I succeeded in reaching the wren quarter without arousing
the ire of the squirrels, and I placed my seat very near the nest to see
if the bird had learned not to fear me. Fixing my eyes on the place she
must enter, I waited, motionless. Some time passed, and though I heard
many bird notes about me, and the wren song itself afar off, there was
no flit of wing nor faintest wren note near me. But suddenly a shadowy
form passed in directly from the front, stayed an instant, and left in
the same way. It was perfectly silent, not the slightest rustle of a
feather, and it was so near the ground I could not tell whether it flew
or ran; it appeared to glide. Brave little creature! I was heartily
ashamed of annoying her. I moved my seat to a more respectful distance,
and she went in and out as usual.

[Sidenote: _A BRAVE LITTLE MOTHER._]

It was much more satisfactory watching the little mother about her daily
cares than trying to keep track of her mate. He was one of the most
baffling birds I ever tried to spy upon. Often I heard his delightful
song so near that I was sure in a moment I should see him. Then I peered
through the low bushes, without moving so much as an eyelash, expecting
every instant that my eyes would fall upon him, and certain that not a
leaf had rustled nor a twig sprung back, when all at once I heard him on
the other side. He had flitted through the underbrush, not flying much,
but hopping on or very near the ground, without a breath to betray him.
The wren mother could not hide herself so completely from me, there
being one spot on earth she could not desert,--the charming nook that
held her babies; and yet, be as motionless as I might, I could not
deceive her. She never could be convinced that I was a queer-shaped
bush, not even when I held a maple bough before my face, and my
garments harmonized perfectly with my surroundings. She always came near
and bowed to me, jerked herself up, and flirted her wings and tail, as
if to say, "I know you. You needn't try to hide." When I went too near,
as on the occasion spoken of, while she was much more wary she was not
afraid, and I had no compunctions about studying her quaint ways.

We were exceedingly desirous of seeing that family start out in life,
and we did, in a way that startled us as much as it must have surprised
them. "I wonder if they're gone," was our anxious thought every morning
as we approached; and one day, not seeing either par