flew to a neighboring tree,
uttering what sounded marvelously like a chuckling laugh, and in a
moment left the grove. Did, then, the daughters of the house meekly fly,
without preliminary study of the world from the door? Were there,
perchance, no daughters? Indeed, had more than one infant reached
maturity? All these questions I asked myself, but not one shall I ever
be able to answer.

I waited several hours. Many birds sang and called among the trees, but
no sound came from the oak-tree household, and to me the wood was
deserted.

IV.

HOME LIFE OF THE REDSTART.

The redstart himself told me where his treasures were "hid in a leafy
hollow." Not that he intended to be so confiding; on the contrary he was
somewhat disconcerted when he saw what he had done, and tried his best
to undo it by appearing not to have the smallest interest in that
particular tree. I happened that morning to be wandering slowly along
the edge of a tree-lined ravine, looking for the nest of a greatly
disturbed pair of cat-birds. As I drew near an old moss-covered
apple-tree, I heard a low though energetic "phit! phit!" and a chipping
sparrow emerged from the tree with much haste, quickly followed by a
redstart, with the unmistakable air of proprietor. The sight of me made
a diversion. The pursued dropped into the grass, while the pursuer
turned his attention to the bigger game, presented so unexpectedly that
he had not time to bethink himself of his usual custom of not showing
his gorgeous black and gold about home. He scolded me well for an
instant, till his wits returned, when he disappeared like a flash. It
was too late to deceive me, however, and I marked that tree as I passed,
intent at the moment upon cat-birds.

On returning, I stopped on the bank to look the tree over at my leisure,
and there I soon saw, two feet from the top of the tallest upright
branch and tightly clinging to it, a small cradle, gently rocking in the
warm breeze. No one was at home, and I sat down to wait. This movement
did not meet the approval of a certain small tenant of a neighboring
tree, for I was saluted by a sharp, low, incessant cry; now it came from
the right side, now from the left. I turned quickly, caught a glimpse of
yellow, the flit of a wing, and then--nothing. In a moment the sound
began again, and thus it tantalized me till my neck became tired, and I
laid my head back among the ferns, to wait till the small fire-brand
calmed down a li