PROCEEDINGS OF SOCIETIES. 195 



the top of a whinbush, by which it entered and left the nest, which was 

 built at the bottom of a deep and narrow furrow, or ditch, overhung by 

 the prickly branches of the bush, and grown over by the thick coarse 

 grass, matted together year after year, to the height of about two feet, 

 all of which he was obliged to clear away piecemeal, before he succeeded 

 in gaining the prize. The nest was composed of coarse, dried grass, and 

 contained five beautifully white eggs, closely freckled with carnation spots. 



The martin and swallow seek the humble roof of the poor cottager; 

 here they are almost always protected, and repay with their happy twitterings, 

 the shelter thus given to them. 



A curious anecdote of a martin was related to me. It appears that a 

 poor boy had met with an accident and broke his leg. The room in 

 which the sufferer lay being small and heated, the upper part of the 

 window was let down. A martin soon entered; it flew in and out again 

 several times, and finding itself unmolested commenced building against the 

 ceiling. This the birds were allowed to do. The eggs were laid, then 

 hatched, and in due time the young brood took wing. Both the martin 

 and swallow return frequently, if not always, to the same neighbourhood. 



A pair of chaffinches, during the last summer, built their nest in the 

 spreading branch of a fir tree in my garden, about four feet from the 

 ground. I watched the parents at a distance, about their task; it was 

 soon finished, and eggs deposited. During the incubation, I went frequently 

 during the day to see the patient little bird sitting on the nest, and 

 would stand within a foot of her. When I found her off, I would 

 scatter crumbs of stale cake round the nest; and as soon as the young 

 birds were hatched, I became more familiar, and both the old and young 

 birds would feed from my hand. Having several workmen about the 

 place, I was pleased to see the interest they took in the novel sight. 

 The old bird at their approach merely left the nest and remained 

 within two or three feet of it, seeming to have lost nearly all fear of 

 danger. 



Alas! The fate of my poor little pets was sad indeed. On Sunday 

 morning, the 7th. of June, I went after church, as usual, to feed them, 

 when to my horror I saw the nest torn down, and the feathers of both 

 old and young birds strewed upon the ground. The tale is soon told. A 

 stray cat had unfortunately discovered the nest, and must have reached it 

 easily by springing from the ground. 



Some of the birds' nests are exquisite specimens of workmanship. 

 The chaffinch, wren, and long-tailed tit are most neatly and beautifully 

 constructed. Other birds have scarcely any nest, and the night-jar merely 

 deposits her eggs in a small cavity of the bare ground, by the side of 

 brushwood, and then hatches them. 



