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136
My Studio Neighbors
·
W. Hamilton Gibson
17
In
a
certain
grassy
bank
not
far
from
where
I
am
writing,
at
the
foot
of
an
unsuspecting
fern,
a
song-sparrow
has
built
her
nest.
It
lies
in
a
hollow
among
the
dried
leaves
and
grass,
and
is
so
artfully
merged
with
its
immediate
surroundings
that
even
though
you
know
its
precise
location
it
still
eludes
you.
Only
yesterday
the
last
finishing-touches
were
made
upon
the
nest,
and
this
morning,
as
I
might
have
anticipated
from
the
excess
of
lisp
and
twitter
of
the
mother
bird,
I
find
the
first
pretty
brown-spotted
egg.
Surely
our
cow-bird
has
missed
this
secret
haunt
on
her
rounds.
Be
not
deceived!
Within
a
half-hour
after
this
egg
was
laid
the
sparrow
and
its
mate,
returning
from
a
brief
absence
to
view
their
prize,
discover
two
eggs
where
they
had
been
responsible
for
but
one.
The
prowling
foe
had
already
discovered
their
secret;
for
she,
too,
is
"an
attendant
on
the
spring,"
and
had
been
simply
biding
her
time.
The
parent
birds
once
out
of
sight,
she
had
stolen
slyly
upon
the
nest,
and
after
a
very
brief
interval
as
slyly
retreated,
leaving
her
questionable
compliments,
presumably
with
a
self-satisfied
chuckle.
The
intruded
egg
is
so
like
its
fellow
as
to
be
hardly
distinguishable
except
in
its
slightly
larger
size.
It
is
doubtful
whether
the
sparrow,
in
particular,
owing
to
this
similarity,
ever
realizes
the
deception.
Indeed,
the
event
is
possibly
considered
a
cause
for
self-congratulation
rather
than
otherwise--at
least,
until
her
eyes
are
opened
by
the
fateful
denouement
of
a
few
weeks
later.
And
thus
the
American
cow-bird
outcuckoos
the
cuckoo
as
an
"attendant
on
the
spring,"
taking
her
pick
among
the
nurseries
of
featherdom,
now
victimizing
the
oriole
by
a
brief
sojourn
in
the
swinging
hammock
in
the
elm,
here
stopping
a
moment
to
leave
her
charge
to
the
care
of
an
indigo-bird,
to-morrow
creeping
through
the
grass
to
the
secreted
nest
of
the
Maryland
yellow-throat,
or
Wilson's
thrush,
or
chewink.
And,
unaccountable
as
it
would
appear,
here
we
find
the
same
deadly
token
safely
lodged
in
the
dainty
cobweb
nest
of
the
vireo,
a
fragile
pendent
fabric
hung
in
the
fork
of
a
slender
branch
which
in
itself
would
barely
appear
sufficiently
strong
to
sustain
the
weight
of
a
cow-bird
without
emptying
the
nest.
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