very proud to mate with the king of the Limberlost; and if deep
in her heart she felt transient fears of her lordly master, she
gave no sign, for she was a bird of goodly proportion and fine
feather herself.

She chose her location with the eye of an artist, and the
judgment of a nest builder of more experience. It would be
difficult for snakes and squirrels to penetrate that briery
thicket. The white berry blossoms scarcely had ceased to attract
a swarm of insects before the sweets of the roses recalled them;
by the time they had faded, luscious big berries ripened within
reach and drew food hunters. She built with far more than
ordinary care. It was a beautiful nest, not nearly so carelessly
made as those of her kindred all through the swamp. There was a
distinct attempt at a cup shape, and it really was neatly lined
with dried blades of sweet marsh grass. But it was in the laying
of her first egg that the queen cardinal forever distinguished
herself. She was a fine healthy bird, full of love and happiness
over her first venture in nest-building, and she so far surpassed
herself on that occasion she had difficulty in convincing any one
that she was responsible for the result.

Indeed, she was compelled to lift beak and wing against her mate
in defense of this egg, for it was so unusually large that he
could not be persuaded short of force that some sneak of the
feathered tribe had not slipped in and deposited it in her
absence. The king felt sure there was something wrong with the
egg, and wanted to roll it from the nest; but the queen knew her
own, and stoutly battled for its protection. She further
increased their prospects by laying three others. After that the