constantly for several days, but never saw the birds near it again
until the 18th inst., when the hen flew out of the hole as I passed
the tree. I visited the spot on the 19th and 20th inst., tapping the
tree loudly with a stick as I passed, but without any result, as the
bird did not fly off the nest.

"On the 21st, thinking the nest must either be forsaken or contain
eggs, I got up and looked into the hole, and to my surprise found the
hen bird comfortably seated on the nest, notwithstanding the noise I
had been making to try and put her off. As the crevice was too small
to admit my hand, I commenced to enlarge the entrance with a chisel,
the old bird sitting closer than ever the whole time. Finding all
attempts to drive her off the eggs fruitless, I tried to poke her off:
with a piece of stick, whereupon she stuck her head into one of the
far corners and sulked. I then inserted my hand with some difficulty
and drew her gently out of the hole, but as soon as she caught sight
of me, she commenced fighting in the most pugnacious manner, digging
her claws and beak into my hand, and finally breaking loose, flying,
not away as might have been expected, but straight back into the hole
again, to commence sulking once more. Again I drew her out, keeping a
firm hold of one leg until I got her well away from the hole, when I
released her. I then extracted five fresh eggs from the hole by means
of a small round net attached to the loop end of a short piece of
wire. The nest was a simple pad of human and cows' hair, with a few
horsehairs interwoven, and one or two bits of snake's skin in the
lining, having a thin layer of green moss and thin strips of inner
bark below as a foundation--in fact a regular Tit's nest. The eggs, of
the usual parine type, were considerably larger than the eggs of _P.
atriceps_, broad ovals, slightly smaller at one end than the other,
having a white ground spotted moderately thickly all over with reddish