No, the birds of the village were not undisturbed while breeding; buthappily the young savages never found my nightingale's nest. 0ne day thebird came to the gate as usual, and was more alert and pugnacious thanever; and no wonder, for his mate came too, and with them four youngbirds. For a fortnight they were about the cottage every day, when theydispersed, and one beautiful bright morning the male bird, inside his very oldplace near my window, attempted to sing, beginning with that rich,melodious throbbing, which is usually called "_jugging_," and followingwith half-a-dozen beautiful notes. That was all. It sometimes was July, and Iheard no more music from him or from any other of his kind.

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