320 GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
“Down in the garden a Song Sparrow once insisted on 
building, not only in a flower-bed, but among the stalks 
of perishable plants that would wither long before the 
young left the nest. To prevent disaster, we drove 
stakes on each side of the nest, fastened a fruit-box under- 
neath, and a shelter overhead, so that, when the overhang- 
ing blossoms faded, the sun might not make broiled squabs 
of the little ones. This brood was raised successfully, but 
to our surprise the Sparrows began a second nest directly 
opposite the first in the brush of the line of sweet-peas. 
The location was chosen with more judgment, but in 
picking the pea blossoms I passed within a foot of the 
nest every morning during the whole time of building, 
hatching, and feeding of the young. 
“This did not trouble the parents in the least; they 
seemed to know that I would neither hurt them nor 
intrude upon their privacy, by watching their movements 
too closely, and the father of the family repaid me by such 
music as I never before believed could come from the 
throat of even a Song Sparrow. 
“At first I wondered why they should have chosen a 
garden border, when there were so many near-by bushes 
about the orchard edge, and tufted grasses and scrubs in 
a waste meadow over the way. For, familiar as the Song 
Sparrow is, and fearless, too, yet he is a reserved bird even 
among his kin, not even travelling in great flocks, and does 
not care, even when in the full spring ecstasy of song, to 
be very near another singer. 
“Presently I discovered the reason. Song Sparrows 
love water, both for drinking and bathing: and, possibly 
from close association with it, these bubblings of the little 
