me, she would slip in among the bushes, apparently trying to
keep out of sight. At last, having thoroughly mystified me, and confused
my ideas past clearing up, with a dozen or more hints, she would fly
over the small elm and disappear, in a different direction from any one
of the places she had with such pretended reluctance pointed out. Nor
was the nest to be found by following any of her hints.

One day, when the beguiling little dame had exasperated me beyond
endurance, I suddenly resolved to track her to the nest, if it took the
whole day. So when she flung herself, in her usual way, over the small
elm, I instantly followed, in my humbler fashion. Under the fence I
crept, through the patched-up opening the cows had broken through, and
up the path they had attempted to make. Now I fully appreciated the
wisdom of the bird in the choice of a nesting-site. The very blackberry
bushes appeared to league themselves together for her protection,
stretching long, detaining arms, and clutching my garments in all sorts
of unexpected and impossible ways; and while I carefully disengaged one,
half a dozen others snatched at me in new quarters, till, in despair, I
jerked away, leaving a portion of my gown in their grasp. Thus fighting
my way, inch by inch, I progressed slowly, until the chat's becoming
silent encouraged me to fling prudence to the winds, and pull aside
every bush at the risk of tearing the flesh off my hands on the briers.

[Sidenote: _A NEST AT LAST!_]

At last a nest! My heart beat high. I struggled nearer, cautiously, not
to alarm the owner; for though I must see the nest, I had no desire to
disturb it. I parted the vines and looked in. Empty, and plainly a year
old!

Forgetting the brambles in my disappointment, I turned hastily away,
when the bush, as if in revenge for my discovery of its secret, seized
my garments in a dozen places; and suffering in gown and temper, I tore
myself away from the birds' too zealous guardians and wandered up the
lane.

The lane was an enticing spot, with young blackberry runners stretching
out tender green bloom toward whom they might reach, and clematis
rioting over and binding together in flowery chains all the shrubs and
weeds and young trees. What happiness to dwell in the grounds of the
"shiftless" farmer! Since tidiness, with most cultivators, means the
destruction of all natural beauty, and especially the cutting down of
everything that interferes with the prosperit