This scared the bluebirds so that they
staid away for two whole days; and, when they returned, it was
amusing to see how timidly they entered their house. Then they would
fly off to another tree at a distance, and make believe they had
nothing to do with the one their nest was in. At last, they grew
bolder; and, every evening at sunset, I saw the mother bird go into
her nest while her mate went to roost.
There was a slight feeling of despondency in my heart when I first
went to look out of this window; but when I saw these birds, and
witnessed the scene of faithful love and domestic industry and
happiness set forth by these little creatures, the spirit of
complaint was rebuked within me, and I learned a new lesson of
serene trust and assurance that all were cared for by the Creator of
all.
But I must tell you the rest of the story of the bluebirds; and I am
sorry to say, they met with sad trials. The first encroacher, as
they supposed him to be, was a woodpecker; he seemed, as I thought,
to mean them no harm; but as soon as they heard his tap, tap, tap,
they flew at him very angrily and drove him away. A more dangerous
enemy was at hand, one that from his size you would not have
supposed dangerous to them. A little wren, not nearly so large as
the bluebird, came one day to the tree; and, seeing the jar, having
examined it, and being pleased with it, resolved to take it for
herself.
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