found a Robin's nest in April, when the water-pail by the well froze
every night, and a Woodcock's nest in the brushwood. It's hard to see a
Woodcock on the nest, they look so like dead leaves. It snowed a little
that afternoon, and the poor bird's back was all white, but there she
sat. It made me feel so sorry, and I was so afraid she might freeze,
that I made a little roof over her of hemlock branches. And she liked
that and didn't move at all; so then I wiped the snow off her back, and
she seemed real comfortable. I used to go back every day after that to
see her; we grew to be quite friends before the four eggs hatched, and
I've seen them do queer little tricks; but I never told anybody where
she lived, though, because lots of people don't seem to understand
anything about birds but shooting or teasing them."

"Some day you shall tell us about what the Woodcock did, my lad. You
must tell us a great many stories, for you know what you have seen
yourself. That is the best knowledge of all, and it will encourage Nat
to hear you," and Dr. Hunter put his arm affectionately around the
shoulders of each boy.

"Hush! Wait a moment and listen to that Thrasher," said the Doctor,
stopping behind some thick bushes; "he is wooing his mate!"

"What is wooing?" whispered Nat.

"Asking her to marry him and come and build a cosy home in one of these
nice bushes. Listen! See! There he is, up on the very top of that young
birch, with his head thrown back, singing as if his throat would split."
As the children looked up they saw a fine bird with a curved beak,
rusty-brown back, and light breast streaked with black, who was
clinging to a slender spray, jerking his long tail while he sang.