he nest was flat upon the ground. Around it and over it arched the
tall meadow grasses. The nest itself was made of grass--it seemed to
Phyllis that it was made in a somewhat careless manner, and that the
eggs might easily roll out upon the ground.

There were four beautiful oval eggs in the nest--the largest birds'
eggs Phyllis had as yet discovered. They were over an inch long, and
were of a beautiful rosy white colour, speckled closely with reddish
brown spots.

As Phyllis sat very still, the mother bird crept softly back to her
home. She carefully settled herself on the grassy nest and with her
bill tenderly tucked the eggs under her soft feathers.

"How careful you are!" exclaimed Phyllis. "No fear of your breaking
the eggs."

The brown bird rose up quickly in fright and looked uncertainly toward
the fence. Phyllis thought to see her whirr off again.

"Oh, don't go," she cried. "I will not harm you! Truly I will not
disturb you!"

The meadow lark looked again toward the fence, and then settled herself
once more over her precious eggs.

"Why do you look toward the fence so often?" asked Phyllis.

"Do you not see that bird perched upon the fence?" asked the meadow
lark.

"Yes," Phyllis answered, "what is he doing there?"

"He is our sentinel," said the meadow lark. "He is on the lookout for
danger. When he gives the alarm, the rest of the flock know there is
danger near.

"When we hear the sentinel's alarm we are off in an instant. We fly
high into the air. Did you not notice how I hovered near the
grass-tops for a moment and then rose high into the air?"

"Yes," answered Phyllis, "and I knew that you were a lark because of
that whirring sound you made when flying."

"Ah, but I am not really a lark at all," said the bird. "I am called
the meadow lark, but in truth I belong to the blackbird family. The
red-winged blackbird is an own cousin of mine. So also is the oriole,
who builds a queer hanging nest in the tree-tops.

"The oriole is very proud of her woven nest, but I should consider it a
dangerous place for bird babies. My little ones will never be hurt by
falling from their nest.

"Neither can I imagine how any bird can dare to build in such an open
place.

"My home is hidden here amid the grasses. Sometimes we find places
like this, where the grass blades naturally arch over and hide the nest.

"Sometimes we weave a sort of arch over the nest with the downy, fine
fibres fr