324 Habits of the Tawny Owl. 



growing, and black when ripe. But more of this, perhaps, 

 another time, should I ever offer to the public a short paper 

 on the cause and prevention of dry rot: a misnomer, by the 

 way. When this fungus falls to the ground, after the rains 

 of winter have set in, the bark on which it has grown shows 

 such faint traces of a change, that an eye not accustomed to 

 look for these things would scarcely notice the distempered 

 part. By means, however, of a hammer and a chisel applied 

 to the spot, you are soon let into the secret : and you find the 

 wood, in the quarter where the fungus appeared, of a texture 

 soft and altered, and somewhat approaching to that of cork. 

 Here, then, you can readily form an excavation large enough 

 to contain a pair of tawny owls. 



In the year 183], I pointed out to Mr. Ord (the elegant 

 and scientific biographer of poor Wilson) just such an ash 

 tree as that which I have described. It was above 2 ft. in 

 diameter, and there was a fungus on the western side of it. 

 After I had excavated nearly half way through the tree, I 

 found a portion of the wood more tainted than the rest : so, 

 putting a longer handle into the socket of the chisel, I worked 

 in the direction which it took ; until, most unexpectedly, I 

 came to the nest of a titmouse. The bird, like the Portuguese 

 at Mindanao, had evidently taken possession of the tenement 

 through an aperture from the eastward, now closed up with 

 living bark ; while I, like the Spaniards, had arrived at the 

 same place, by pursuing a course from the westward. If I 

 might judge by the solid appearance of the bark, I should say 

 that, some fifty or sixty years ago, a branch must have been 

 blown off from this eastern side of the bole ; and there the 

 rain had found an entrance, and had gradually formed a 

 cavity. The titmouse, judging it a convenient place, had 

 chosen it for her nidification ; and, probably, had resorted to 

 it every year, until the growing wood at the mouth of the ori- 

 fice had contracted the entrance, and, at last, closed it up for 

 ever : leaving the nest hermetically sealed in the bole of the 

 tree. A thousand people might gaze on this tree, in passing 

 by, and still not see a blemish. I myself can just perceive it, 

 by means of a few concentrated lines still visible on the bark; 

 but, had not the discovery of the nest drawn my attention to 

 the place, I should never have perceived that the eastern part 

 of the tree had formerly received an injury. Mr. Ord was 

 enraptured at the exposition of the ornithological treasure; 

 and noted down in his pocketbook every thing worthy of 

 record. The tree still stands : and long may it stand, to 

 gratify the curiosity of naturalists. Last year, a pair of barn 

 owls reared their young in it ; and, just now, there are eggs 



