THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA EDUC.*" PSYCH. LIBRARY BEQUEST OF ANITA D. S. BLAKE \ TINT HOUSES. THE FIRST NE3T. TINT HOUSES AND TI-IEIE BTJILDEBS, CASSELL FETTER & GALPIN: LONDON, PARIS X or banks being quite a favourite situation. I have also heard of sparrows building their ^*^^*- nests on the masts of ships, flying down to be fed, and rearing their young ones in safety TINY HOUSES. 81 daring short voyages ; or if there had not been time for the eggs to be hatched, the nest having been carefully brought down by some kind sailor when the ship reached port, and being placed in some sheltered crevice of a wall, the birds have continued their happy labours on dry land after their pleasant little trip to sea. During the winter they take shelter any- where that shelter can be found, creeping into all sorts of funny nooks, and popping their pert little heads out when least expected, to the surprise and amusement of the lookers on. They like bathing, which would make us believe that they are cleanly birds ; but then what are we to think of their love of rolling themselves in the dry, dusty roads? They, are 82 TINY HOUSES. very fond of lying down on their sides in the sun, giving themselves up with easy indolence to a sparrow's far niente. They consider, in common with many other birds, that worms are among the " delicacies of the season," but they are very far from being the early bird that finds the worm, for they actually allow the big blackbirds to forage for them. These clever little people have been seen to lie in wait among bushes, and when a blackbird has hunted over the lawn, and is carrying off a fine fat worm in its mouth, out springs Master Sparrow, and, I suppose, in consequence of the sudden shock of. his un- expected appearance and ready pecJc, the blackbird, though so much larger and stronger a bird, drops his tasty burden, and scurries off in great haste. But before you blame the cunning sparrow for this impudent behaviour, listen to me while I tell you what sparrows have been known to do. If they capture the worms -that belong to blackbirds, and snatch them forcibly from their beaks, they actually feed canary birds with worms TINY HOUSES. 83 and insects in the tenderest and most generous manner. A lady had one of these sweet-singing little yellow favourites in a cage huog outside her window, and was astonished to see a sparrow bringing it worms, and paying it the greatest attention. It began to do this at first in rather a shy way, and only staying a moment or two, dropping the delicate morsel into the cage, and flying hurriedly off. But it soon grew bolder, and the friendship between the free bird and the captive in the^ cage strengthened every day. The canary would put its shining head out through the bars, and receive the worm in its beak from the beak of the other, and then the sparrow would perch on the cage, and the two would thoroughly enjoy each other's society. The neighbours (as well as the owner of the canary) were so impressed by the conduct of the sparrow, that they hung their own canaries out of doors just to see what would happen, and, if you will believe me, that kind-hearted sparrow fed them one and all. But, faithful to his first friend, he brought most of the tit-bits to him, and while he fed the other canaries did not remain with them, but always returned to perch on his cage. I do wonder what was passing in the heart of that sparrow a little, homely, brown-coated bird while he fed and tended all those splendid and refined foreigners ! MAGPIES. }0 tell you tlie truth, I have not, for my own part, a very good opinion of magpies. It is considered an unlucky thing to see a magpie, and people tell you that you should bow to it three times, in order to prevent some mis- fortune happening in consequence, and that if you do this, a second TINY HOUSES. 85 magpie will probably (attracted, I suppose, by the hope of being treated with such supreme politeness) put in an appearance, and that two magpies are prophets of good instead of bad fortune. People tell you this, I say, but, of course, they are either very foolish or very merry people ; and when I say I suppose the second magpie is drawn towards you by your bows, I hope you are quite aware that I am talking nonsense. The fact is, magpies are sociable beings, and fly about in parties, so that you seldom see one without at least another following. The reason I object to magpies, then, is not because I consider them birds of ill omen, but because they are such shocking thieves. They steal everything they can get hold of. If a magpie saw your thimble or scissors lying about, it would like nothing better than to fly off with that same thimble or scissors to its nest. Magpies have stolen silver spoons and money, and servants have been supposed to be the thieves, and suffered instead of the magpies, and after all the missing articles have been dis- covered in the nests of these cunning, demure- looking birds. Besides this propensity to take what does not belong to them, they are so very cruel. They suck the eggs of other birds, and they even murder and de- vour the little birds THE MAGPIES NEST, TINY HOUSES. 87 themselves after they have been hatched. Magpies have been taught to speak very successfully sometimes, and are said to become almost as great chatterers as parrots. One that learnt all his speeches from a parrot used to disappoint passers-by, by calling out from his cage, hung up against the house, " Pretty Poll, pretty Poll," and then when people looked up, expecting to see the bright-plumaged lively-mannered parrot, there was nothing to be beheld but an ordinary black-and-white magpie. Not that magpies are, after all, such ordinary black- and-white birds as they are generally supposed to be. If you examine them carefully in a good light, you will find almost every shade of green and of purple among the feathers, which, at the first glance, seem only black and white. Of course, magpies talk in rather a foolish manner, only uttering over again just what they have picked up from others ; and there is an old French fable of a magpie meeting an eagle, the king of birds, and being extremely alarmed in consequence ; but, to his great delight, the eagle, instead of putting an end to him with beak and talons, imperiously desired him to talk and be amusing. The magpie at once obeyed, and rattled on with all the phrases, opinions, and bits of news that he had, during a long life, succeeded in picking up in different directions, all joined together in a regular magpie melee. The eagle listened with such profound attention, that the magpie felt quite certain he had made a most agreeable impression, and his fears yielding as his vanity was gratified, he ended by offering to skip about and watch everywhere and everything at the eagle's court; and then he plumed himself in great glee as he thought what a good thing he had made of this chance encounter with the TINY HOUSES. king of birds. In short, he felt that he had made a hit. Poor magpie ! The eagle, though well aware that magpies are the best spies that could be engaged, instantly declined his very obliging offer, informing him that he did not wish to have his court corrupted by gossip ! This is a lesson for us, as well as for birds, that it is better not to talk unless we have something to say worth hearing, and that possibly when we have been chattering away to some eagle of our acquaintance, and think we have delighted him, we have really made no better impression than this magpie did on his great friend. Magpies make such extraordinary nests : they build them much in the skme places as, and they are not larger than, those of rooks or of wood doves ; but they consider it neces- sary to defend them in a manner that no rook or wood dove ever dreamt of using. It is hardly against other birds they would use this defence, and it really looks as if they were afraid of men, or shall we rather say of boys ? For so close and strange is the wall they make outside, and sometimes also inside, their nest, that the creature with hands, who wishes to rob it, is actually often obliged to use a knife, and cut deeply down before he can reach the egg- treasure within. Is it only the eggs that cunning magpie builds this defence to guard, or has he an idea in his mind of the spoons, thimbles, and other articles that he may wish to hide within it ? Who can say ? Not I ; frankly, I have no wish to read a magpie's mind, even if I had the power to do so. One sly fellow fixed on a goose- berry bush for his house to be placed in, and not considering its thorns enough, actually fenced its nest as usual, and then fenced the gooseberry bush also. The nest is always a large THE EAGLE AND THE MAGPIE (A FABLE). 90 TINY HOUSES. one, though hardly large enough to allow the bird to sit within it without bending its long tail up over its back. The nest is made of fibrous roots of plants, wool, and feathers, all plastered together with mud and clay in the very nicest, neatest manner, and outside is the wonderful defence I have said so much about, composed of thorny branches, generally hawthorn, selected, no doubt, as the most thorny and common, and interlaced together in the most aggravating manner possible. Above, a canopy of the same is erected with perhaps even more care, and is more dangerous to the hand of the intruder than the body of the nest itself, while the entrance door is left as small as the architect can contrive it without rendering it out of the question for himself to go in and out. Sly and cunning thief! while eating the eggs and young birds of others, he thus keeps his own secure ; and while stealing any of our possessions he can, he takes care we shall not steal his. Monkeys are well known to copy anything they see men do ; they are imitative animals, and will gravely and atten- tively follow the example set them by others, but magpies do more than this. Their love of mischief leads them to undo what they see others do; and as I am very fond of gardening, I sincerely pity the gentleman who, wanting to sow some delicate seeds in specially prepared soil in a sheltered spot in his garden, which happened to be full of stones, picked the stones carefully out, laid them in a heap, and sowed the seed in the soil he put into their place, and then, on looking over his shoulder, found that his pet magpie had busily employed itself in taking up' and restoring to its original place every stone that he had just laid aside. TINY HOUSES. 91 Bat the most amusing story I ever heard of a magpie was about one who formed a wonderful friendship with a sheep. It used to be constantly seen sitting on the sheep's back, and seemed as if it really could not make enough of it. Whether the sheep's tastes or wishes had been consulted, it was not so easy to see, or whether it shared the lively affection felt for it by the magpie. It submitted, at any rate, to the caresses of the bird, and appeared resigned to having it as a frequent guest on its back. I would rather not have been that sheep, I confess ! I should not like to have a magpie always perched on my back ! At last, one day that sheep was sheared, and in its wool was found concealed all manner of extraordinary things thimbles, sixpennies, half-pennies, pens, scraps of ribbon, and I really don't know what besides. The fact is the poor unconscious sheep had all this time been the receiver of stolen goods, the thief having brought these various little articles, and carefully concealed them in its wool. I wonder what the feelings of the magpie were when that sheep was shorn ! THE WREN. " The wren, the wren, the king of all birds, On Stephen's day was caught in the furze ; Though he is little, his family's great. Put your hand in your pocket, and give us a trate" XV*- sing the Irish boys on the 2Sth of December, the day of St. Stephen, when they carry branches of holly about with them, and expect halfpence in return for their song ; but what the legend is on which the custom is founded, or why the tiny wren should, on any day in the year, be considered to usurp the throne of the eagle, and be styled the king of all birds, I have not an idea. It is such an unpretending bird TINY HOUSES. 93 in appearance, and so extremely small, though it is given rather a consequential air by carrying its tail very erect. Its simple garb has been immortalised in verse : " Cherry pie is very good, And so is currant wine; But I will wear my brown gown, And never dress too fine." The conclusions may not be logical, but what does the want of logic signify in a nice little lady who will always be con- THE GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN AND ITS NEST. TINY HOUSES. 95 tented with a brown gown, and who is quite resolved against finery ? This wise bird never leaves us, but remains on through the winter, and in ordinary seasons does not suffer in conse- quence of thus staying at home, but in very severe winters the poor creature perishes from cold or hunger ; so I am sure we ought to feed it, and take care of it in any way that we can. It is very familiar in its manners, and lives in our gardens and close to our houses, as well as in lanes or hedges, and some- times at night several wrens maybe found cuddling up together in an old nest to keep themselves and each other warm. If a nest is not available, they content themselves with a hole in a tree, or even among stones, and they do not go to bed without almost as much chatter and bustle as half a dozen children may make before settling for the night, and sometimes there seems to be a good deal of disputing as to which should have the snuggest and warmest corner, and one or the other, while all this piece of work is going on, comes and peeps out of the mouth of the hole to see if anybody is observing them, when they all of a sudden become as quiet as a set of little frightened mice. The wren has a clear, bright note, and sings with such force that its little body vibrates all over with the effort of bringing out its song. Now and then it sings with a loudness and strength which astonishes all the other birds, and, perhaps, its small self also. I have heard of people being astonished too. Men who know all about birds, and therefore, of course, about wrens, have been called out of their houses now and then by a loud, piercing, ringing soDg, which they could TINY HOUSES. not recognise as that of any bird they were acquainted with, and to : their amazement have found that it proceeded from the tiny form of a wren ! On one of these occasions, and it was late in September, a number of other birds nocked round to listen to the surprising songster sparrows, chaffinches, and robins the former came inclined to chastise the little person for making such a noise, but shrank back startled into submission when they approached it ; the dear robin, on the contrary, had only peaceful, friendly intentions throughout. The wren makes a very large nest considering its own size, or rather its own want of size, and places a domed roof over it. It is round, but the side against the tree, or whatever else it is built on, is flattened. There is a good deal of difference in the materials used for the nests, and it is generally contrived to look as like what it is built on as possible, so as not to be easily detected. Twigs, little roots (dead or living), leaves, moss, ferns, grass, hay, are all used; and it is sometimes most comfortably lined with hair or feathers, and sometimes, again, it is not lined at all. It is one or two inches thick, and inside it is about four inches deep, and perhaps not more than three inches wide. The architects do not seem to be at all particular about the positions of their dwelling, and put it anywhere and TINY HOUSES. 97 everywhere on the ground, or twenty feet up in a tre, and in every intermediate place that can be imagined, even to an old tattered bonnet hung up in a field with the in- tention of frightening birds away, but changed by a pair of confiding little wrens into a foundation for their own residence. Then they will also take possession of the nests of other birds, either deserted by them, or even during their absence they have been known to throw out the eggs, and deposit their own instead ; and a wren has been detected stealing the materials of a well-made thrush's nest, and flying away with them to build its own instead. How puzzled that thrush must have been, when each time it returned with something fresh to build up the walls of its nest, it found them always smaller than when it had left them, and the act of building rendered endless till the clever little wren had finished its own home with the materials sup- 7 plied by the other. But the slyest thing, I think, a wren ever did was, when disturbed by some children who had the impertinence to watch it when at home, it coolly built up the entrance to its house, and opened one on the other side. There is no reckon- 98 TINY HOUSES. ing on what these birds will do, they choose such curious places for their nests ; in some of these of which I have read I should so like to find a nest myself! I have plenty of cactuses in my greenhouse, hut no wren ever huilt a nest in one of them yet. I read of such a thing being done in a cactus placed on the highest shelf in the greenhouse, and the little creature had to squeeze itself in and out of a small hole left for a vine stem every time it brought a morsel of grass or moss for building purposes, and in this difficult manner she built an immense nest. What put it into her head to come inside at all, leaving a world full of trees and bushes outside the glass? Oh, wren ! I will ]eave the door of my greenhouse wide open if thou wilt promise to build a nest in one of my cactuses ; but oh, wren ! thou small and capricious bird, I know I should leave that door open in vain ! I will tell you another curious thing about wrens' nests. It has often been noticed that numbers of unfinished wrens' nests are found, with no eggs in them ; and it has been supposed that the little builders are peculiarly sensitive and frightened, and that on discovering or imagining that their work has been observed, they have flown off, and recommenced it in some more retired place. But this is not the case. The real fact is, that while the good little hen is sitting on her eggs, the cock pretends to be employed in building a nest for her, so that nobody should know he has in reality long ago completed his work, and that she is busy now on hers. He makes as many TINY HOUSES. 99 as half-a-dozen nests near where his own is, but all in conspicuous places, while the actual nest is hid awa} r as safely as possible. And the clever wren, though he makes the nest, does not take the trouble to line it with feathers, because he knows no eggs will ever be placed in it, and therefore the soft, smooth lining will not be required. It is just as if we built the bare walls of a house in which we never put any furniture ; because, while we build them, we know quite well nobody will ever live inside them. When frightened, the wren utters a note that sounds like " Chit, chit," from which, in Ireland, it is sometimes called the chitty wren. It cries out " Chit chit " so often and so loudly if that worst enemy of birds, the cat, makes her appearance, that in thus giving vent to its feelings, it is very useful to other birds of all kinds, who receive timely warning from its impassioned " Chit, chit." The common wren is not more than four inches long, and, wearing her brown gown, never dresses too fine ; but there is a charming little variety which is still smaller, called the Golden -crested Wren, which has, as its name shows, a most beautiful crest on the top of 100 TINY HOUSES. its head. These birds are not quite so hardy as the common wren, and fall an easy prey to cats or cruel boys in the winter, when they seek warm, sheltered places in gardens and near houses to protect themselves from the inclemency of the weather, little dreaming, poor things ! that there are worse dangers to be encountered than frost and snow. The golden-crest hangs its nest from the lower part of the branch of a tree, near the end, the fir tree being the one it usually selects, though it does not object to others, and some- times chooses a bush, such as the laurestinus. It makes the nest resemble exactly in colour whatever tree supports it, and the little opening is near the top of the nest. A high wind will sometimes blow it ahout, and dislodge the eggs, which are the smallest laid by any British birds, and extremely pretty ;. they are sometimes of a pure white just spotted into red, but the usual colour is a reddish brown, deepening in the shade of THE BEARDED GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN. 102 TINY HOUSES. brown towards one end. How distressed the poor little parents must be when they return to their pretty homes they left safe and comfortable, and find them empty, and the tiny treasures they kept in them scattsred about on the unsympathising earth ! If the eggs were not broken, and the wrens were as clever as the cuckoos I have told you about, they might take them up in their beaks and gently replace them in the soft feather bed in which they ought to have been. But I never heard of a poor little wren doing this ; in fact, I never heard of any bird carrying an egg in its beak except the cuckoo, and it is such an out-of-the-way and unexpected thing for a bird to do, that for a long time it was not supposed that the cuckoo did or could do such a thing, and great wonder was felt as to how she laid her eggs in a nest too small for her to sit in. I think he was a happy man who first saw a cuckoo flying towards a hedge-sparrow's nest with an egg in her beak, and actually beheld her deposit it by the ons little egg (but, as we know, scarcely smaller than her own) w^hich already occupied it. If we all of us kept our eyes open, and looked about us, and watched the wonderful and curious things that are hap- pening round us every day, and every hour and every minute of every day, we might each and all of us make discoveries as interesting as that which one day one man made about the cuckoo and her egg. Nature is always at work. Birds, insects, trees, flowers, grasses, mosses, all the pretty things around us, are still full of undiscovered secrets, which a careful observer may find out. Would you not like to be that observer ? I should ; and there is no reason I know of why either you or I may not be, if we will only work and watch. THE WEAVER BIRD. DEEHAPS you will exclaim, when m I I v , . V cr s TINY HOUSES. 137 rather a larger and not so bright- coloured a bird as the others. They are found over most parts of Europe, but prefer tem- perate climates, and they arrive rather late in the season, and often set off on their winter journey as early as August and September. They appear to cross the seas to us during the night, as they hardly ever arrive in England later than nine o'clock in the morning; and when they do come, the poor little travellers seem very tired. They often perch on fishing-boats to rest by the way. They do not generally appear in flocks, but in pairs. A few of them are said to winter in the south of England, and a couple hopping gaily about, once astonished Hyde Park by appearing there in November. In Ireland they arrive early, and leave early, and make the mountain sides, turf bogs, and sandhills gay while they remain, and they also frequent the sea coasts, and build their nests among rocks, in the ruins of old stone walls, and such like places. About the Giant's Causeway, on the Irish coast, there are a great number ; for while the stone-chat shows its taste by selecting the loveliest English commons for its residence, the wheatear is equally fastidious, and fixes on the finest wild scenery in Ireland. Here their nests are built among the rocks, and they are watched with great interest flying down to them from considerable heights, and perching on the rocks near them, "the body drooping below the wings, and the breasts puffed out." THE MOOK-HEN. f-^x, CAN'T think why those birds who possess two names moor-hen and water-hen are almost always called by the former. It is quite true that they are to be found on moors, but not on what we generally think of by that name not on the high forest moorlands, only on watery moors, that more deserve to be called marshes than moors ; whilst it has truly been TINY HOUSES. 139 said, " that there is not a river, lake, canal, brook, or even pond, which moor-hens do not either inhabit all the year round, or occasionally visit." A moor-cock is a game bird, and as that title is therefore appropriated, the cock of the moor-hen is degraded or complimented take it which way you like by being designated moor-hen also. This does seem rather ridiculous, it must be admitted ; and I suppose it is to avoid this absurdity that a new name has recently been given to the moor-hen gallinule, or little fowl. This is a pretty name, and one which is suitable, for moor-hens are small, and they are also easily tamed, and are domestic sort of creatures, that would take kindly to the diminutive, generally considered as it is to be a pet name. The gallinule, then, for so will I call it, is an accomplished bird. It not only swims and dives, but it walks remarkably well also, which is the case only with water birds of the class called waders, to which it belongs. If it is at home swimming and diving on the surface of a smooth lake or flowing river, it is no less so when it steps ashore. It walks nimbly on, sometimes easily, sometimes very rapidly, and jerks its tail gaily with every step it takes, showing the bright white feathers beneath, and giving it the appearance of strutting airily; and with its coral-red beak it pecks up insects from the grass, and makes altogether quite an imposing object in the scene. It is very easily tamed, and not the least afraid of man ; I have heard of its picking up crumbs inside the hall of a gentleman's house, and when disturbed, looking wistfully back, as much as to say, " I was doing no harm, why could you not leave me alone ? " and then continuing its meal. 140 TINY HOUSES. Their nests are large, strong, and roughly made. They are built among rushes and reeds, or the roots of trees ; and the great object of the builder seems to be, as no doubt it is, to con- ceal them, for it builds them of rushes and flags, and very often spreads these about all round in a curious way, so as to cover a much greater space than the nest itself, large as it is, and so to draw attention from the fact that a nest is there at all. But with all these precautions the nest is soon discovered, for it is on ground but roughly covered by reeds or rushes, and it is very loosely attached to any support, so that it is easily blown away, and the family is sometimes hatched and reared on the water itself. Occasionally the nest for the eggs is built in a tree some distance from the water. It is difficult to know why this is ever done, whether it is from a mere whim or vagary, or whether the builders have some potent reason for the act deep and hidden in their minds. Perhaps they have suffered in some previous season from the insecurity of their home. It may have been disengaged and blown away, as we have just stated ; been buffeted about, and the eggs, or young birds even, injured by the severity of the treatment they were Jfftk exposed MOOR-HEN AND NEST. 142 TINY HOUSES. to. The parents, terrified and perplexed by all they had gone through, may have determined to avoid similar dangers, and so they place the nest safely in a tree, as much as a quarter of a mile (as they have been known to do) from the water. When this is the case, while the hen sits on her precious eggs, the cock generally forms another nest by the pond or river; and after the young birds are old enough, he has been actually seen conveying them in his claws from their safe haven in the tree to the element in which they delight, and there is the new nest ready for them to sleep in at night now they are old enough to do so without the same danger that they must have run while they were only eggs. This is certainly a sensible and comfortable arrangement, and I should very much like to know exactly what the birds are thinking about while they make the plan, and carry it out in all its various particulars, so cleverly. The pike is a terrible and much to be dreaded enemy to young gallinules. It darts up from below to the surface of the water, and opening its big mouth, the poor little thing is destroyed before it is even aware that it is in danger. I wonder why no water birds have pleasant voices. The gallinules certainly are no exception to this rule. Their note is something like the very hoarse bark of a dog, with quite as much croak as bark in it. It is sometimes as incessant as that of the cuckoo in early spring. If your attention is drawn by this strange cry, and you endeavour to find the bird, you will have considerable difficulty in doing so. Should it discover your wishes, you may be sure it will evade you in some way or other ; if not by hiding among the rushes, by diving under the water, beneath which it can remain unharmed for a wonder- TINY HOUSES. 143 fully long time if there are weeds at the bottom for it to cling among. I have even heard that it will trick you in the follow- ing curious manner : You see it at some distance on the surface of the water, when, evidently alarmed at your approach, it suddenly disappears. If you search for it, you certainly will not look for it nearer to yourself than when you first saw it, as you suppose the frightened creature will get as far away as possible. Not a bit of it. What it has done is this : diving below, so as to be entirely concealed, it has made its way under the water towards you, and is now lying close beneath your feet, clinging with its claws to the mud and rushes, and with nothing out of the water but the tip of its sly little beak. And if that is not very clever of the gallinules, 1 should like to know what is ! WARBLERS. EAR me ! Are not all singing birds warblers ? " perhaps you will ask "little warblers, as they are often called ? " Yes, of course they are ; but there are some birds that bear especially the name Warblers, as others do robin, sparrow, or finch, and it is about these I am going to talk to you now. Not that I shall have something - to say of all the warblers, for there are too many of them ; but I can tell you about some of the commonest and best known. Let me see, there is the Dartford Warbler (a TJNY HOUSES. 145 rare kind in England, and so called because the first recognised was at Dartford), and the Blue-throated, and the Wood, the Willow, and the Melodious Willow, the Sedge, the Rufous Sedge, the Reed, and the Great Sedge, the Garden, the Orphean, and the Grasshopper, and how many more I wonder, don't you ? They are all of them very nice little birds, I think, and they have pretty songs, most of them, and if they have not, they can learn pretty songs. Some of them I think the sedge and the reed take kindly to confinement, and are quite happy when brought up in cages. They are quickly tamed, and they sing like different birds, imitating the lark and the linnet, the robin, the sparrow, and even the thrush. Of course, it is only when kept in a cage that people become thoroughly acquainted with these imitative talents in birds, but it is not only in cages that they display them, warbler has been heard, safe in its bush, imitating the cackling of a neighbouring poultry-yard very suc- cessfully. The Sedge and Reed Warblers are alike in many respects : they both like the edges of water, where they build their nests among the plants that grow there ; but the former is commoner in England than the latter. No reed warbler was ever recog- 146 TJNY HOUSES. iiised in England till the year 1785, nearly a hundred years ago, but that is not any reason for supposing that none had ever visited us before that date. People are more obser- vant in many ways nowadays than they were in our grand- fathers' time. The nests of these birds are very different, and the Eeed has a great advantage here over the Sedge Warbler. The nest of the latter is near the ground, raised from it by rushes or other coarse herbage. It is well made, and stronger than you would ex- pect from the size of the bird or the materials he uses. The framework of it is literally only made of the blades of grasses ; but then a quantity of wool and hair are woven into these, so that a strong little edifice is attained at last, as TINY HOUSES. 147 well as an extremely narrow one. Most small birds make their nests in the form of a cup, and the sedge warbler is no exception to this at least he is not if you judge only by the outside of his nest ; but look inside, and you will find that it is a very small and shallow cup, half of its size being in the thickness of the strong, narrow walls, and especially of the floor, intended, doubtless, to keep out the cold and wet inseparable from the damp situations selected. Now let us turn our attentions to the very beautiful nest of the Eeed Warbler. This pretty little bird selects three or four reeds to support its nest (thence comes its name, of course) ; it gene- rally suspends it about three feet above the ground, but it has been found at an ele- vation of nine or ten feet. It is 'HOFCrM-LU- THE SEDGE WARBLER AND ITS NEST. TINY HOUSES. 149 really a most artistic piece of work, and is tied round these rushes with long grasses and sedges in an extraordinary manner. There is a loose foundation of long stalks, lichen, grass, dry leaves, and wool, and resting firmly placed in this, yet capable of being taken out of it without injury to either, is what may be called the nest itself, lined thickly with, and indeed almost entirely made of, the blossoms of the reed. The whole thing is exceedingly narrow and deep, being often five inches deep outside, so that it can sway about on the reeds uninjured. As the frail yet seldom broken supports bend pliantly down to the very edge of the water, the nest sways and bends with them till the mouth, with the parent bird sitting happily and safely within, actually lies on the surface of the water, and rises again, reeds and nest uninjured. Very wonderful twin nests of reed warblers were once discovered. They ^ were suspended between six reeds, the two centre reeds being used by both birds alike, and ran through both nests. The nests were neatly built, and differed in no particular from ordinary ones just as long and as narrow, just as carefully woven, and as prettily lined with reed blossoms, and swinging about among the 150 TINY HOUSES. rushes just as easily as if they stood alone. In one nest were four eggs, and in the other three. It is to be hoped that when the little people made their appear- ance, they would prove to be possessed of good sense and good temper, so that they might live happily in a proximity that is not always pleasant where those de- lightful qualities do not abound. Twin nests of this description have been found built by the warblers in low evergreen bushes, which they seldom select for their homes, and therefore, perhaps, like to persuade a friend to keep them in countenance when they do so ; but this is the only instance I have heard of a twin nest erected amid rushes. Wherever the reed warbler does take up its quarters, it is found in great abundance. It is rather shy, but so fond of chattering that it really does not seem able to hold its tongue ; and while it conceals itself in herbage, or among low bushes, its loud, and, I am afraid I must admit, harsh " Chree, chree, treet," is ever to be heard. When frightened it makes a sound which it is said can only be thus expressed, " k-u-r-r-r," with as many more r's, I suppose, as anybody likes to add to those I have already given. It is always running about, and is as nimble and active as a bird can be. The same TINY HOUSES. 151 may be said of the habits and ways of the sedge warbler, which will play at hide and seek, in and oat of bushes and grass, in a surprising manner, and all to draw away the attention from its nest of any one who has ventured nearer to it than it approves of. These warblers have the same clever way of pretending to be ill or hurt, falling down, and then fluttering away in order to persuade you that its nest is anywhere in the world but where it is. It is extraordinary how many birds do this. While I speak of the resemblance of the sedge and reed warblers in so many ways, I must not omit to give the former credit for having a much better voice than the latter. It is a very powerful voice to proceed from such a tiny throat, and though rather shrill> is not with- out music in it. It sings till twelve o'clock at night in the summer, and sometimes, indeed, till morning, as I have heard the cuckoo do in my own home. One hot summer, when cuckoos abounded, and I slept with my windows open, I have been kept awake by these pertinacious crea- tures ; and talking of cuckoos, the nest of the sedge or reed warbler i s sometimes chosen by them to deposit their eggs in. I will give you an instance of this in the words of the gentleman who observed it, Mr. Thomas :" At the latter end of July, while reading in my garden, which adjoins a 152 TINY HOUSES. market gar- den, I was agreeably surprised to see a young cuckoo, nearly full grown, alight on the rail- ings between the two, not more than a dozen yards from where I was sitting. Anxious to see what bird had reared this cuckoo, I silently watched his movements, and had not waited more than a moment, when a reed warbler flew to the cuckoo, who, crouching down with his breast close to the rail, and fluttering his wings, opened wide his orange-coloured mouth to receive the insect his foster-mother had brought him. This done, the reed warbler flew away for a fresh supply of food. The difference in the size of the two birds was great it was like a pigeon feeding a giant. While the reed warbler was absent, the cuckoo shuffled along the rail, and hopped upon a slender post to which it was nailed, and which projected about eight inches above the rail. The reed warbler soon returned with more food, and alighted close to the cuckoo, but on the rail beneath him; she then began to stretch herself to the utmost to give him the food, but TINY HOUSES. 153 was unable to reach the cuckoo's mouth, who, like a simpleton, threw his head back, with his mouth wide open> as be- fore. The reed warbler, by no means at a loss, perched upon the cuckoo's broad back, who, still holding back his head, received in this singular way the morsel brought for him." The Grasshopper Warbler is a wonderful bird, and I am sure you will agree with me in this opinion when I tell you something about him. In the first place, his note is exactly like that of a grasshopper, from which, of course, he has had this name given him. Now, perhaps it will be sufficient oddity in a bird to chirp like a grasshopper, but I have something odder to tell you. The grasshopper warbler is a ventriloquist. You may stand in a meadow and fancy you are hearing numbers of grasshoppers chirping loudly all round you, first in one direction and then in another, first here and then there, while in reality it is one little bird in the hedge just behind you who is doing it all. It creeps through hedges like a mouse, and runs along the 154 TINY HOUSES. ground in a graceful manner tossing its head. Its nest is difficult to find, as it is a careful, cautious little thing, and is anxious to conceal it, and clever in doing so. It is generally placed on the ground, hidden by herbage, grass, or bushes, shaped like a cup, and made of grass woven firmly together with a little moss, and lined with finer kinds of the same. It is, ensconced amid tufts of grass, and the bird makes no way to it, but creeps along like a mouse to and then into it. I have . read of four nests being found in a field of Italian rye grass, in a place where the grasshopper warbler was rare, so that it was all the stranger to suddenly alight on this little colony. Three of these nests were built on the ground near hedges. The fourth was several inches from the ground, the luxuriant tuft of rye grass in which it was built having carried it up with its own growth. It was supported by these grasses like a reed warbler's nest in a bed of reeds, and was woven of grass. When it was necessary to cut the grass, the owner of the field removed the nest and placed it on the hedge bank close by for safety, and the bird fed its young as usual, and did not appear to object to it slit tie jaunt. Afterwards the nest was put back on the roots of the grass from which it had been taken, and the equanimity of the parents remained unmoved. The Garden Warbler sings really well, and is said to resemble the nightingale, of course only in a very slight degree, as any one who has ever heard the nightingale will know ; but in the Island of Shetland nightingales are unknown, and the poor misguided Shetlanders have boasted of being visited by those queens of song, when really only the garden warblers have called upon them. TINY HOUSES. 155 Then there is the Blue-throated Warbler, a beautiful bird, but not more than three or four of which, I believe, have ever visited England; why I don't know, as they are not uncommon on the Continent, and it cannot be the cold of our climate that keeps them away, for they penetrate to Russia, Sweden, Norway, and even to Lapland. The breast and throat of this bird is a splendid brilliant blue, with a pure white spot in the centre, and a borcler outside the blue, first of black and then of white. It builds its nests in hollow willows and under roots, leads a lonely life, sings a sweet, low song, and in the season, lives chiefly on blackberries. I must not leave the subject of the warblers without saying a word or two about some who only inhabit far distant lands in other quarters of the world than ours. In Australia there is the Rock Warbler, which also bears the name of the Cataract Bird, because it is always to be found where waters rush wildly through iDcky grounds. This singular creature has never been seen in a forest or wood, and has never been observed to perch on the branch of a tree. It is about the size of a sparrow, and in colouring not unlike our hen robins. I need not remind you that this cataract bird is what is called a pensile bird, because it builds hanging nests ; and in America there are two more pensile warblers worthy of notice the Prairie and the Pine- creeping Warblers. Both these are pretty birds, very small and lively. The latter resembles our old friends the titmice in its movements. The prairie warbler, though lively, and with a brisk, jerking air, is very cool in its manners, and never seems to lose its composure under any circumstances. MAETINS. BAYING told you so much about swallows, there does not seem much left to say of Martins ; and yet I may give a few words to them with- out tiring you or repeating anything that I have said before. They come to us a few days later than the swallow makes his appearance, about the twenty-first of April, and from that on to the beginning of May ; but, like swallows, they sometimes disappear for weeks afterwards, and then, sud- denly reappearing, remain for the whole summer. About six months later, or hardly so much, as it is generally before the middle of October, they may be observed collecting in large flocks, on church towers, high house-tops, or, when these are TINY HOUSES. 157 not available, on trees. They sometimes delay till the beginning of November to plan their departure, but this does not happen often. I say to plan their departure, and so it really is, for they meet days before they take flight, and make several false starts, returning with great noise, as if really they were training for the journey ; at last they are off in earnest, and they fly by night, and at a great height from the ground. As soon as ever the martin returns to this country it flies to its old home, clings to the walls of the very same cottage beneath whose eaves the year before it built its nest, peeps in at the windows, and even makes a rapid, momen- tary entrance, and all this time it appears to be really full of joy. After a while it sets to work, and builds its nest in the old place, probably repairing the old nest itself, if by a lucky chance it has been left there ; this is easily done with straw and grass, plastered in with clay from the nearest pond or stream. I cannot but believe that these martins are very happy when they return in this manner to their old summer homes. The Sand Martin is a wonderful bird. It burrows like a rabbit, only it does so, not only in soft sand, but in rock, some- times so hard that it would destroy the edge of a knife. What a sharp beak a sand martin must have, to be sure ! It will choose a place with softer materials to work on if it can find it ; but if not, it sets steadily to work on the hard rock or side of a cliff, and begins at once in the most systematic manner. It uses its 158 TINY HOUSES. legs as a pivot, on which it turns round and round, and as the whole time it never ceases pecking, a good-sized circular hole is soon the result of its lahours. It then makes a tunnel of from two to three feet long, generally straight through; if any obstacle meets it on the way that it cannot conquer, such as a stone, it is not too proud to bend and curve its road out of the straight direction. At the end of this tunnel it makes its nest, and a safer place for a nest can hardly be imagined. In itself it is nothing more than a mass of dry herbage and soft feathers, pressed together by the weight of the bird's own body ; in fact, it is rather a large, comfortable cushion or feather bed than a nest. The eggs deposited thereon are beautiful, being extremely small, and of a delicate pinky whiteness. Here the young birds are hatched, in darkness and security; but alas for them when old enough to venture out at the mouth of their homes ! Little sand martins are great delicacies, and those horrid big ogres, magpies and crows, scent them out, and actually hover round the holes, too small for them to enter, and snap up the poor babies when they are making their first attempt at flight. But while they are still in their nests even, they are not safe from that worst SAND MARTINS AND NESTS. 160 TINY HOUSES. enemy of birds and their eggs, to whom I have had occasion to allude before the boy ! On the side, high up a perpendicular cliff or rock, the holes that contain the treasures may be seen by dozens and dozens, and the danger of the adventure is only an additional temptation. Of course, boys climb up at the risk of their lives, and, clinging to the face of the rock with one hand, introduce the other deep into the burrow and rob the nest; and if a boy was killed every year, as he ought to be, when thus employed, I do not believe it would in the least deter the remainder of that extraordinary species from enjoying the same feat, and running the same risk do you? It is curious that birds accustomed to the calm and retire- ment of cliffs and rocks, and choosing such solitude as the end of a burrow for their cities of nests, should also build these cities in the sides of railway cuttings. Yet such is the case, and the noise, din, bustle, and racket appears to be no objection in their eyes ; and in some places they are protected by the rail- way porters, for their usefulness in killing flies, that tormenting plague of close quarters in hot summer weather. The approach of the martins is looked forward to as a blessing, and if a few hot days occur in early spring before they come, the flies have it all their own way, and the porters are miserable, and hail the first martin with delight, even though it " does not make a summer." I must not forget to tell you about the sort of nest that the common martin makes under the eaves of houses, and in corners of windows ; also in more ambitious places, such as the arch of a gateway, or in the side of a cliff. It is closed all round, except a tiny entrance on the most sheltered TINY HOUSES. 161 side, and it is very small, only just large enough for one of the birds to enter in when the eggs require its presence. It is made of mud cemented together with curious care, and lined with hay, grass, and feathers; the outside is rough, hut the inside is very soft and smooth. Now I will finish what I have to say about martins with a story of a pair of them and our old friend the swallow, to whom they might have addressed the inelegant slang phrase, " You're another ! " I will give the story in the words of a very pleasant bishop, who tells us delightful anecdotes of birds. " A pair of martins having built in the corner of a window, one of which, from a remarkable white feather in one of its wings, was known to be the same bird which had built there the year before, had no sooner finished their nest than a strange swallow conceived the plan of taking posses- sion of the property, and once or twice actually succeeded in driving the owners out. For a week there was a constant battling ; at length the two rightful owners were observed to be very busily engaged in lessening the entrance into the nest, which in a short time was so reduced that it was with difficulty they could force themselves into it singly. When they had accomplished their object, one or other of them always remained within, with its bill sticking out ready to receive any sudden attack. The enemy persevered for a week, but at length, finding its prospects hopeless, left the pair to enjoy the fruits of their forethought." THE ROBIN. tT seems almost impertinent to say anything about the Robin. Dear little Robin Red- breast, our cherished companion and familiar friend, to talk about you, and describe your habits and ways, is like turning historian to the domestic habits of a brother or sister of our own. I have not left you to be one of the last of the birds I speak about from any disrespect or want TINY HOUSES. 163 of love, but rather from this feeling, that you were too sacred a " household god " to be chatted about at all ; but now I have determined to mention you, lest you should misunder- stand the motive of my silence, and fancy I did not care for you as I do ; lest your feelings should be hurt, in fact, at being altogether omitted from a book about birds. Dear Eobin, everybody loves you ; you are among birds something like our own Princess of Wales among women, inasmuch as no- body's lips are ever opened about you except to praise ; inas- much as you have never excited any feeling in any breast except a feeling of love and admiration. The robins build their nests all round me in the lovely home wherein I live. Often, when not well, I lie for hours beneath a goodly cedar on a lawn, feasting my eyes on hills and woods such as are not given to many eyes to feast on, and there the old robins bring their young, and introduce them to me in the prettiest manner possible. I have had as many as seven or eight perching all round me, slight, shapely things, just beginning to take the beloved colouring on their breasts, and hopping or fluttering about with the surprised joy of the very young. All robins sing the hen as well as the cock and the birds that are born in May or June sing in the autumn, so that as the leaves begin to turn, even in a small garden, thirty robins have been heard all singing at once from different parts. Their nests are charming, made of fine grass and moss, and warmly lined. They place them in banks and hollows, and cover them over with leaves, so that they may not be detected, just as the dear kind robins covered over with leaves the two poor THE ROBIN REDBREAST. TINY HOUSES. 165 little children in the wood. They will also build low down in bushes, and even in those trees, such as yews, that have branches lying on the ground, in crevices in walls, or the ivy ' that grows on them. They have been known to build in rooms, and in all manner of curious places, none, perhaps, more curious than the following: Our sailor King, William IV., placed in a building in his grounds at Bushy Park a curious and interesting relic. It was no less a thing than that part of the mizen-mast of the Victory against which the great Lord Nelson leant when, in the moment of conquest, he received his death-wound. A hole is in this part of the mast, through which a large shot had passed, and in this hole, while the mast stood among the sailor king's treasures at Bushy Park, two robins built their nest and reared their young. The relic is now in the Queen's armoury at Windsor Castle. I wonder whether the nest is still in the hole pierced by that cruel shot ! We all know how kind and tame robins are ; how they will enter our houses, perch on our shoulders, and feed from our hands, if we give them the least encouragement to do so, the same birds returning year after year, and recognising again the people of whom they were fondest. Hundreds of stories could be told about robins. I must content myself 166 TINY HOUSES. with only one or two. In the county of Donegal, in Ireland, there is a grand mountain called Muckish. I will not tell you what Muckish means in the wild Irish language, as you would perhaps then not believe that the mountain is as beau- tiful as it is. On the side of Muckish, a golden eagle was trapped, and afterwards it was kept a prisoner by a gentleman into whose possession it came, who had it chained to a perch. I think it is very wrong to trap and chain eagles, but that has nothing to do with my story. A little robin made friends with this eagle, and still greater friends, per- haps, with the food with which this eagle was fed. It regularly visited the eagle at feeding- time ; when the king of birds descended from his perch to receive his dinner, the robin coolly took his place, presenting a very amusing contrast to the recent occupant. It then hopped on the chain, fearless and unhurt, and pecked up little scraps of his food. Robins are wonderfully fond of fat and butter. If you want really to gain a robin's heart, put a little fat or butter among the crumbs you throw out to it on the cold winter days. In an Irish cottage a robin sought shelter every winter, and during the summer the mistress of the house regularly supplied it w r ith crumbs whenever it visited her. She had always kept a cat till the robin formed this friendship with her, but she then dis- missed Mistress Pussy, for she might injure or frighten the bird. That woman had a discriminating soul ! If you are kind to a robin you may have it build on your window sill, and become a member of your family. Two ladies fed one through the winter ; TINY HOUSES. 167 and when spring came, put a box outside the window, and anxiously watched to see what it would do. It fell into their wishes in the politest manner possible, building its nest and rearing its young there. The ladies pulled horse-hair out of an old chair and left it about, and the robin's nest was entirely built with this horse -hair. Eobins are very fond of each other, and very faithful in trouble. A slate trap had been set to catch birds, and a robin was observed perched outside it. The pertinacity with which it remained there drew attention, and on the trap being opened another robin was found caught within. It was carried into the house, and its friend, doubtless its mate > followed it, and left the captor no peace till the captive was set at liberty, when the two robins flew off happily together. THRUSH AND BLACKBIRD. EXT to the robin in tameness, next to the nightingale in the beauty of his song, stands that delightful bird the Thrush, and scarcely second to the Thrush is the Blackbird. They surround me where I live, and in reward for the food with which I supply them during the winter, they pour into my ears their delicious spring songs. Once a thrush sung out to me loudly and sweetly in the wood close to my house, in the midst of the bitter winds of January. One year a thrush built his nest in, and the young thrushes came triumphantly forth from, a jessamine bush at my hall door ; and I suspect a blackbird, not usually so tame as thrushes, of having a nest at this moment very close to another part of the house, for it is always there ; its shrill, sweet song penetrates into the rooms, and in March it used to stand on the window sill close to where a lady lay ill in bed, and eat TINY HOUSES. 169 the ivy berries that clustered round it. I suppose it was a missel thrush that sang to me in the winter, as I do not know whether any of the other thrushes are such defiers of cold. The missel thrush builds its nest in the most con- spicuous parts of trees, generally in the forking of the stems of main branches ; and when it has placed its home, exposed to the attacks of other birds, and evident to all, it defends it with the utmost courage and pugnacity from the attacks it has invited. A pair of thrushes will thus prove a match for four or five magpies, and will hunt off even a hawk if it ventures too near to them. The nest is made of twigs of trees, moss, grass, wool, feathers, shav- ings, and anything else. Part of a newspaper has been found in it, though it is not to be sup- posed that thrushes read the news ; and once a lady's lace cap that had been washed and laid on the grass to dry, disappeared. The thief was not discovered till the autumn, when, as the leaves fell from the trees, some- thing white was discerned high up in one of them, and 170 TINY HOUSES. on further examination it proved to be a thrush's nest, in which the missing lace cap formed one of the most conspicuous materials. Such behaviour, I am afraid, is more worthy of a magpie than of a thrush. The common Song Thrush is fond of evergreens. Wher- ever I turn from my hall door I am surrounded by rho- dodendrons, and many a thrush's nest lies within their luxuriant branches. The cock thrush, it is said, takes good care of his mate : on wet days he feeds the young himself, but on fine days he allows their mother to perform the task, while he sits near and sings to her. Thrashes are easily tamed : I have heard of one in captivity that would follow its mistress about, and had been taught to whistle several tunes. She fed it on a paste made of crumbs of bread and rape-seed, of which it ate fifty-two pounds in the course of the year. Mistaken kindness to feed it so well ! The poor bird had the gout; one of its legs would swell, and give it great pain for several days together. I am sure none of THE FALLEN BRANCH. 172 TINY HOUSES. my wild thrushes in their rhododendron nests, that fly about and collect their own food, ever had the gout. So it seems to be the same with birds as with men. It is the gentleman in his easy chair, eating his good dinner, who suffers from gout, not the labourer who earns his bread by the toil of his hands. The Blackbird, I believe, is the largest song bird in England. It is said to be a great imitator of other birds, and that it can crow like a cock or caw like a rook if it chooses. I am very glad it does not choose to do this generally, but is contented with singing like a blackbird, though some people will not give it the credit even of its own song, but declare that it is, when singing its very best, only imitating the thrush. I don't agree with them. The world is surely large enough for both thrush and blackbird to be original. They are shy birds, but can be tamed in captivity, when they can be taught a great deal, and are agreeable companions. There is a curious old book called " Pepy's Diary/ 7 being a journal kept by a very gossiping gentleman, more than two hundred years ago, when Charles II. was king. A sentence in this shows that as long ago as that, blackbirds were kept in captivity, and taught to whistle tunes : "22nd May, 1863. Randall, the house carpenter at Deptford, hath sent me a fine blackbird, which I went to see. He tells me he was offered twenty shillings for him as he came along, he do so whistle. 23rd. Waked this morning between four and five by my blackbird, which whistled as well as ever I heard any; only' it is the beginning of many tunes very well, but then leaves them and goes no further." TINY HOUSES. 173 The blackbird's nest is made of twigs and roots, and a layer of mud inside. Young unfledged birds are most ridiculous- looking, with their great yellow beaks always wide open calling for worms. I remember a nest full of them, which a servant, in a house where I staid as a child, had stolen from a tree. Every day I used to see him feeding the creatures, always clamorous, with wide opened yellow beaks, asking for more. What wonderful little beings I thought them, and how I grieved when they all died grieved for them, not for him ; for even then the sentence my conscience pronounced against him was, " Served him right/' It is a cruel thing to steal a nest of little birds from their parents. THE TAILOR BIRD. TAILOE BIRD ! Yes. Why should there not be a tailor bird as well as a weaver bird? and yet it does seem almost too wonder- ful that a bird should actually sew with thread ! Man is said to differ from the rest of the animal creatures, inasmuch as he laughs and cooks ; and if there was anything we might think TINY HOUSES. 175 we laughing, cooking human creatures had invented, and that belonged solely to us, it would, perhaps, be the art of sewing. We never could have thought that a bird would sew. I don't believe any beast does (though a monkey might in imitation, if he saw you or I at work), and I will almost take upon myself to pronounce, as a fact, that no fish can sew; but no one must be so presumptuous as to say the same of a bird ; for there is a tailor bird, and that tailor bird sews ! This wonderful bird is a native of India; it is not shy, and it frequents gardens and compounds, which is what the piece of ground enclosed about a house is called in that country. It has a beak shaped very much like a shoemaker's awl don't be alarmed, I am not going to ask you to believe that it makes shoes, or wears them either ! But after selecting a large leaf hanging from the end of a twig, it pierces a number of holes along the edges of it with this awl-like beak ; it then gets the long fibres of plants, which make capital thread, and carefully sews the leaf up into a complete bag. But, stranger and cleverer still, if the leaf is not large enough, or in any other way is not suited to make a bag, it actually goes and fetches another leaf, pierces it with holes also, and sews the two together, making, by that means, a first-rate job of it. Now let me whisper in your ear a very singular thing, which it requires a little faith and some imagination to believe, but which is nevertheless true. Occasionally this good tailor has been known to tie a knot at the end of the thread, so as to be sure it does not slip through ! Have not some of us, some time or other, been TAILOR BIRD AND NEST. TINY HOUSES. 177 in distress for want of a knot at the end of our thread, and sighed over half a dozen stitches put in, when, lo ! out they all come with the end of the thread in the air, just for want of a knot in it? Next time let us remember the tailor "bird, and profiting "by his bright example, carefully make a knot before we begin our work. Now perhaps you are wondering how eggs can lie and birds be hatched between a couple of leaves, so listen to me while I tell you that this is not the case. The leaves are only the outer walls of a snug little mansion, which is to be most luxuriantly furnished within with soft white down, not only extremely elegant in appearance, but forming one of the softest and most comfortable beds possible for the eggs that are intended to lie in it. So you see the tailor bird thinks of everything, and is not at all a personage to be despised. The entrance to this charming little dwelling is at the top, and from the manner in which the whole thing is managed, it does not betray itself as a nest, but may be taken by the enemies of the bird for nothing more than the foliage of the tree ; and the bird and its nest full of eggs are altogether so extremely light that the very end of the slenderest twigs will support both house and family, but certainly not the mischievous depredators that would devour them, so there they hang in perfect safety, laughing at the foes that would injure them. This little tailor is entirely yellow in colour, and only measures three inches in length. I certainly should like very much indeed to see the lively, clever, tiny thing hard at work sewing up its nest, selecting the leaves, and then carrying to them the long pieces of thread, and piercing the holes with its beak, and drawing the thread TINY HOUSES. through them ; and it is only three inches long, and is of a bright yellow colour ! What a delightful little tailor, to be sure ! There is another bird that sews, which I may as well tell you about here. It belongs to the family of warblers, so we may claim it as an old acquaintance, though I did not mention it when I was talking about its brothers and sisters. It is a pretty little creature, called the Fantailed Warbler, in consequence of the peculiar shape of its tail, and it does not spend its life so far away from us as India, for it visits Europe, though I am sorry to say it has never made its way into England. Like the reed warbler, it fixes on reeds to support its nest, and it sews together a number f\ TINY HOUSES. 179 of their flat blades for this purpose ; but it has a way of its own for doing this, which does not resemble either the tailor man or the tailor bird. Instead of taking a long thread, and sewing steadily in and out, and out and in, till the thing is finished, it employs a great number of very short pieces of thread, which it passes through the holes it has made, and ties a knot at the end of each of them. So I think, in its own way, it is quite as clever as the tailor bird is in his. The worms that weave silk have not an idea of using the silk they weave in this manner. No one ever heard of a tailor caterpillar or a tailor spider ; they only weave, they cannot sew. Won- derful are the homes that, in distant countries, spiders make for themselves. They burrow in the ground, and line the little tunnels they form with strong elastic silken webs, that will not let through a particle of dust or sand, but they have not the faintest idea of drawing out long silken threads from these webs and sewing with them. Talking of spiders, I could tell you most wonderful things about them, and about ants and wasps, in all manner of countries, who build all manner of nests, in all manner of ways ; but I have not time to do so now, because all our stories have been about birds, and I have one or two little things to say you will like to hear concerning woodpeckers and larks, whom I decidedly prefer to ants, and spiders, and wasps, though I will not deny that there are more curious facts to be narrated of insects than have ever yet been told of birds. THE WOODPECKER. E have all of us heard of mr c,V->- "The woodpecker tapping the hollow beech tree," but I daresay we none of us know a great deal about the woodpecker himself, or why he is always tapping always tapping trees, as his name of woodpecker shows. Well, I have been telling you about birds that burrow in earth and sand, and even rock; but woodpeckers burrow in wood, and that is one meaning of the tapping sound they are for ever making with their long, sharp, useful bills. Another is, that a hoard of insects live under TINY HOUSES. 181 some diseased portions of the bark of trees, and on these insects woodpeckers feast, and this diseased bark they peck away in order to get at them. I believe they are rather useful to woods by this behaviour than otherwise, but there is a prejudice against them, and they are sup- posed to injure trees, because bits of bark are found lying on the ground wherever their " Tat, tat, tat" has been heard. On this account they have been perse- cuted, and shot, and driven away, till there are very few of them left in England, which I am sorry for, as they are pretty birds, and of a quaint, old-fashioned sort that I have a fondness for. "When one taps against the tree it is really only going over it, J'V as a workman may go over the boards of 182 TINY HOUSES. a floor or wainscot to discover where the wood is rotten, and where it is sound, and the sound wood it leaves whole and unharmed, just as the workman would do,, while when it comes to the rotten wood it scatters the bark about, as I have before said, and eats up the insects within it. For these purposes it is for ever ascending trees, clinging close to them in a manner that no other bird, I believe, does, or indeed could do, for its whole frame seems especially formed for this purpose. It has such extraordinary toes : they are sharp, and they are hooked ; there are four of them, two pointing each way, so that they are perfectly fitted for climbing and clinging. Its breast-bone is so flat that it can press closely against the tree while it clings with its toes, without the muscles of its legs being in the least inconvenienced. Its very tail helps in this ascent, in making which it spends most of its time : it is short, and the feathers are quite unusually stiff, and the clever creature, when climb- ing, presses them inward against the tree, so that they help greatly in supporting it. The long, strong, powerful beak is well fitted for every purpose that it is required for ; and within that beak what do you think there is? A tongue that is perhaps more useful to its owner than even the beak itself, or the hooked claws, or the flat breast, or the stiff tail, for it is unusually long ; it can be thrust out far and far beyond the beak into any hole the beak has found, and its tip is barbed with little things that, like the teeth of a rake, catch hold of and pull up the insects which, I need scarcely say, then disap- pear within the beak, and are no more seen. The woodpecker burrows into rotten trees without much trouble, and lays its eggs at the bottom of the burrow, on the TINY HOUSES. 183 little broken chips of wood that have fallen inwards during its work. It does not take the trouble to build any nest, the tunnel it makes being, in fact, its only nest. It never in England fixes on a sound tree, as, unlike the American species, its bill is not strong enough to penetrate the hard wood ; or if that is not the case, it is lazy and does not choose to take the trouble. Its burrows may be found, however, in trees that appear perfectly sound splendid forest kings, making a grand appearance outside, but rotten to the core, and the bird has sometimes got the blame of this rottenness, when the wind and the rain are, in fact, the true culprits. A branch blown away from a tree leaves a hollow, and in this hollow rain may lodge, and silently and secretly eat its way deeply into the trunk. In this manner, going slowly and steadily on for years, the whole centre of a tree decays, unsuspected by all who see it, and not only does the whole centre decay, but it becomes filled with water, and if a hole is made through the outer covering, instead of the heart of oak that ought to be within, out rushes gallon upon gallon of dirty water, bearing along with it fragments of decayed wood. The Green Woodpecker is the common kind in England. It is a really beautiful bird, and makes a splendid object fluttering about from tree to tree in those woods from which prejudice has not banished it. It is more than a foot long, the wings reaching to nearly half the length of the tail ; it has a brilliant red crown, and what has been called a moustache of the same colour, while the rest of it is every imaginable shade of yellowish-green, greyish-green, greenish- brown, and yellow. It has been said that its tapping sound, 184 TINY HOUSES. when making its nest, can be heard half a mile off. It burrows as high up in the tree as it can find a place to suit it, sometimes fifteen or twenty feet. Its tongue has been described in the following words : " It has the appearance of a silver ribbon, or rather, from its transparency, of a stream of molten glass, and the rapidity with which it is protruded and withdrawn is so great, that the eye is dazzled in following its motions ; it is flexible in the highest degree. 5 ' This description may be perfectly accurate, extraordinary as it sounds, but I will not vouch for it, for, to tell you the truth, I have never seen the tongue of a woodpecker. The note of the woodpecker is called a laugh, and it is said to be the merriest of birds, going about laughing from tree to tree. It is rather a harsh sound, however, and I don't think it would have suggested the idea of laughing to me ; but I THE DOWNY WOODPECKER. 186 TINY HOUSES. like the notion of a laughing bird, and, at any rate, it is a nicer attempt at laughter than that made by the laughing hyena. There are several woodpeckers common in America, and it is said that their beaks are very hard, and that they can tunnel their nests into sound, undecayed trees. The Ivory- billed Woodpecker has been known to cut chips from a mahogany table, and to " cut a hole fifteen inches in width through a lath-and-plaster partition." The Downy Woodpecker is very small. It makes most ingenious tunnels, sloping for six or eight inches, and then driven perpendicularly down the tree, and it is said to do this, not in rotten trees, but in sound ones. The sloping part of this curious nest is only the passage into it, and is but just large enough to admit the bird ; but the perpendicular chamber in which it resides, where it lays its eggs and brings forth its little ones, is large and roomy. Both cock and hen bird work away, relieving each other at regular intervals, and never ceasing in their labours for several days till the tree-buried mansion is finished ; and then the nest is sometimes seized upon by a small, imperti- nent, unconquerable imp the house wren ! This tiny personage, as soon as the nest is large enough for its purposes, drives off" the persevering, but, I must say, cowardly carpenters, and seizes upon their work for himself. The wren has actually got rid of the woodpeckers, and taken possession of their premises, after they have deposited their treasure there in the shape of a first egg. LARKS. JjT/g)ABKS are small birds with long heels. You may be surprised to hear that birds have heels at all, but I assure you it is the case. I have just taken up a book about birds, and in it I find the following sentence : " All the lark species are distinguishable from other small birds by the length of their heels." Therefore it is evident that all birds have heels, and that larks have especially long ones. This heel being long and straight, prevents it being able to cling to the branch of a tree, like other birds, and in consequence of this peculiarity the lark never perches on a tree. The Skylark is always on the ground or in the sky. The nest is found between two clods of earth, so that they actually make the outer walls of it, which walls are carefully lined with dried grass and roots. The joyous flight of the lark up into the sky, as high or higher than the sight of man can reach, its 188 TINY HOUSES. complete abandonment to the joy of the flight, leaving earth and all its dark cares behind it, and singing louder and louder, and more and more gaily, the higher it ascends, has given rise to the expressions of being "Out on a lark," and " Larking " for any excursion that is only for pleasure. I believe, how- ever, the lark has more at heart in these delightful flights than mere self-enjoyment. His good little mate is patiently sitting all the time on her nest full of eggs, and the erratic and amusing ascent, and exquisite joyful song, is for her entertain- ment, quite as much as for his own. Have you ever watched a lark fly from the ground up into the sky till he becomes an almost invisible speck, and is lost there ? If not, take my advice, and do so the first opportunity, for you may believe me, that it is a charming sight to see. As the spring advances, the lark's flight advances also ; as the sun rises higher in the heavens, so does the lark, who appears always to make for the sun, rise higher after it. "When near earth, the flight is a little slower, and the song not so powerful ; but the nearer to the sky he comes, the more rapidly he flies, and the louder he sings, as if his joy became so exuberant he hardly knew how to vent it. Now he is quite out of sight, vanished high above your head. Ah ! where can he have gone to ? Wait and watch. A moment ago he was there; for a moment he is invisible ; in another moment yes, there he is again, a little speck, but this time becoming larger instead of smaller ; this time drawing nearer, instead of fluttering further away ! He flies faster as he approaches home, but his song is softer, and if there is more tenderness in it, there is less triumphant joy. At last he drops on the ground, but without the slightest THE SKYLARK. 190 TINY HOUSES. appearance of fatigue. To fly up into unfathomed space is less fatiguing to the skylark, than to run to the end of the garden walk is to you or to me. Such is the regular ascent and descent of the skylark in its well-known lonely flight, unless anything happens to alarm it, when all at once it appears to cease to fly, and drops down to earth like a stone. In this manner it avoids the birds of prey that might injure it, but who can only fly, not drop like stones, and therefore are unable to follow the poor pretty creature, thus escaping from their cruel beaks and sharp talons. The skylark's flight occupies never less than ten minutes, sometimes it has been said to be for an hour occupied in its delightful excursion, when the strength of both throat and wings, one would think, must be quite exhausted; but, as I have said before, it is not so, and the wonderful, happy creature comes to earth again as fresh as he left it. Larks begin to sing before sunrise. At midsummer they have been heard to begin at two o'clock in the morning, but I think this must be an exception to the general rule, and that few larks would be such early birds as that ; they often, however, continue singiog till late in the evening, but, like most other birds, are more or less silent for a couple of hours about noon-time. They dislike windy, wet weather, and show their displeasure at it, by being rather silent when it comes, and they generally leave off their constant music in July; but a second inspiration appears to seize them in October, when they sing again. Even during the winter months, in mild weather, a lark here and there, more deter- hninedly " larkish " than his brothers, may be seen and heard ; but he neither flies as high nor sings as loud as in spring TINY HOUSES. 191 and summer-time, nor, I think, can it be expected of him to do so. It is very kind of him to fly or sing at all in the winter. Larks are affectionate, and are fond of their young ones in a remarkable way, even among birds ; and they are also very clever in taking care of them. When the sweet hay time comes on, and mow r ers are busy in the fields with their great scythes, it is sometimes a dangerous season for larks, who make their nests on the ground. Often the poor little nests must suffer; but only think how ingenious their owners are if they do. A mower once cut off the upper part of a lark's nest with his sweeping weapon. The lark sitting in it was uninjured. The man was sorry for what he had done, but there was no help for it at least, so he thought ; the lark knew better, and soon afterwards a beautiful dome was found, made of grass, over the nest, by the patient brave bird, who, unappalled by the imminent danger she had so narrowly escaped from, thought only of keeping her eggs safe and warm, and covered away from' that deadly, gleaming scythe. Now don't you admire the busy, bold lark for this ? When a nest has been destroyed in any way for safe as the little homes built between, and concealed by, clods of earth may generally be, there is a time of year when the situation is sadly dangerous, for hay must be mown and crops must be reaped, even when skylarks build their nests in the midst of them well, then, when the danger has not been escaped, and the nests have suffered mortal injury, the dear, fond parent birds have been seen flying away, and ^ carrying in their claws their unfledged younglings, who, 192 TINY HOUSES. having no feathers to enable them to fly, must have been left to perish but for this heroic effort on the part of their parents. I should like to see the larks so employed ! How curious it would be, when, attracted by their cry, and looking up into the clear blue summer sky, to see the little family making their way through the air, the little helpless children supported by their kind father and mother ! I should take pleasure in telling you a great many more stories about birds and all the other wonders of the animal creation, my dear children, but I have not time to do so now ; and if I had, you might not have time to listen to me, for we have all of us so much to do, and to see, and to think about in this beautiful, busy world in which the good God has placed us. I hope very much, that all I have been able to tell you will give you a greater interest than you had before in His birds, that you will spare their eggs, and if you possess any birds themselves, that you will be very kind to them, and cherish them ; and I hope also that you will like reading about these interesting creatures, and studying their habits and ways both in books and out of doors. But to all these hopes I must add one other, the highest and deepest of all, and that is, that everything you read, or hear, or see about any of God's creatures, either the biggest or the smallest, the most important or the most insignificant, will lead you nearer to Him, and fill your hearts with thoughts of His wisdom and goodness, who not only gave to you your immortal souls, but also to the birds their brilliant plumage and delicious songs. RETURN TO the circulation desk of any University of California Library or to the NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY Bldg. 400, Richmond Field Station University of California Richmond, CA 94804-4698 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 2-month loans may be renewed by calling (415) 642-6753 1-year loans may be recharged by bringing books to NRLF Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days prior to due date DUE AS STAMPED BELOW FEB I k 1993 MAR 2 2 1993 AUG 2 2000