When paired the two are constant companions, ever watchful and devoted to the welfare of each other, sharing equally the duties and responsibilities of wedded life; and from the appearance of the first offspring to their settlement in the world, as faithful father and mother, remain unceasing protectors and providers for the family. This extraordinary strength of attachment and exhibition of natural affection has attracted the attention of all their friends. While living on a farm the writer discovered a nest, nicely concealed by tufts of grass after being constructed, under the projecting end of a fence rail. At the time there were in it five eggs. This number increased daily until twenty-three eggs filled the nest, and incubation began. All went on happily, until one morning there was evidently great distress in that little household. The male bird was sounding his anxious alarm--going hurriedly from one part of the farm to that of every other--sometimes flying, sometimes running; stopping a moment here, a moment there; calling at the top of his voice for his mate, in his peculiar tone of distress. His unanswered cry soon told the tale--some accident, some ruthless hawk, some sneaking cat, or some other enemy, had captured and destroyed his faithful companion. He kept his calling for several hours, sometimes coming quite near, making a low chittering noise, as if suspicious something could be told--that the writer could tell him where his love had gone. Far from it, he too was in search of anything that could give a clue to the whereabouts of the unfeeling wretch that had done the bloody deed--he too was excited, and would have executed the severest penalty known on the guilty one, if found. The nest was occasionally observed during the forenoon, with merely the thought she might be testing the affection of her lord, or playing him a practical joke; but no, the eggs were, at each visit uncovered. About noon-day, his lamentations ceased, and hoping his mate had returned, the nest was again visited, and was surprised to find Bob on the nest, keeping life in the prospective family. For several days he left the nest frequently to make further search for his missing sweetheart. One morning, as usual, I called to see how the little widower was getting along, and found nothing but a bundle of shells--every egg had been hatched. Not far from the nest was heard a crickety sound--“chit, chit, chit”--and soon discovered Bob with his brood. He continued to care for the motherless young, as the writer can testify from frequent meetings, and reared a fine, large covey, which received protection and sympathy during the following fall and winter, of all the farm hands and sportsmen, who knew him and his well-behaving family.