an to fear she would have it pulled to pieces before the
birdlings appeared. Beautiful beyond words was her manner of entering
and leaving her snug home. On departing, she simply spread her wings and
floated off, as if lifted by the rising tide of an invisible element;
and on returning, she sank from a height of ten or twelve inches, as if
by the subsidence of the same tide.

This corner of my small world, however enchanting with its rocky ledge,
its cow-path, and its nest, did not absorb me entirely. Life about the
trumpet-vine was far more stirring and eventful. It was there that madam
spent half her time, for at that point, as well as at the nest, were
duties to be performed, her larder to be defended, intruders to be
banished, and crops to be gathered; there, too, in the intervals, her
toilet to be made. That a creature so tiny should make a toilet at all
was wonderful to think of, and to see her do it was charming. Each
minute feather on gossamer wing or widespread tail was passed carefully
through her beak; from all soft plumage, the satin white of the breast
and the burnished green of the back, every particle of dust was
removed and every disarrangement was set right. Her long white tongue,
looking like a bristle, was often thrust out far beyond the beak, and
the beak itself received an extra amount of care, being scraped and
polished its whole length by a tiny claw, which was used also for
combing the head feathers.

At the vine, too, was war; for the youngster already mentioned persisted
in denying the matron's right to the whole, and many a sharp tussle they
had, when for an hour at a time there would not be a shadow of peace for
anybody. Occasionally madam would relax her opposition to the intruder
and let him remain on the vine; but with the proverbial ingratitude of
beneficiaries, he then assumed to own it himself, and flew at her when
she returned from a visit to her nest, as if she had no right there. His
advantage lay in having nothing else to do, and thus being able to spend
all his time on the ground.

The energy of the little mother was wonderful. In spite of the unrest of
her life, of continual struggles, and work over the nest, she frequently
indulged in marvelous aerial evolutions, dashing into the air and
marking it off into zigzag lines and angles, as if either she did not
know her own mind for two seconds at a time, or was forced to take
this way to work off surplus vitality. During all this t