"At Carlyles Mass 319 1876. (May 3) When sun was just setting and for a moment it glanced out through a rent in the dull storm clouds lighting up the quiet little woodland nook and lending an additional lustre to the full glorio[us] eye of the pretty bird. The full chorus of fin[ge]s now broke out on the still air and a robin burst into song from a neighboring [illegible], but further woodcock the spell was not yet broken. Reaching cautiously forward I touched her tail with my finger tips - then her back stroking the feathers gently; still she stirred not; but finally pressing down a little harder so that she felt the weight of my hand she sprang with startling suddenness directly from the rust whistling loudly as she rose then dropping to the ground tumbled about among the oak leaves uttering continuously a complaining note so deep and low that it sounded almost like a suppressed growl. Following her a little way she rose again and made off through the tree tops. The nest was situated about ten rods from a densely wooded run, and on high dry ground in a little glade grown up with cat-tay hay & old bushes, quite an open situation it seemed to me. It was if anything a trifle more substantially built than the on I found last year and was composed outwardly of leaves & lined with dry grass so thoroughly inclosed that the exterior actual was entirely concealed. The hollow was not deep and the external diameter of the nest so small that the bird carried it easily as she sat, on the egg, win