50 BRAMBLES AND BAY LEAVES. 



to an Irish row, wherein ten or fifteen rush pell-mell together in the 

 branches of a pear-tree, each with a war-whoop of his own, while 

 fighting all the rest, and the whole body rushing together in a confused 

 heap of birds and voices, as if they would sacrifice their blood to the last 

 drop. Just as they have converted the highest fork of the tree into a 

 Thermopylae, and Xerxes and the Greeks are heaped together, beak 

 and claw, the fight suddenly ceases, and a few scattered chirps are aU 

 that remain of the fierce din of battle. These rows chiefly take place 

 in spring ; towards the middle of June they have entirely ceased, and 

 the summer and autumn pass tranquilly, without a single breach of 

 the peace. 



When on the point of marriage, the sparrow's life is indeed one of 

 excitement. He has his home to build, his bride to protect, and 

 what with the search for food and building materials, and the frequent 

 challenges to combat to which his love prompts him, beak, claw, and 

 wing are kept in great activity. He is by no means fastidious in 

 regard to the materials of his nest ; and, like an Arab in the desert, he 

 makes freehold property of any spot that suits him, and there deter- 

 mines to build his home, and die if necessary in defending it. Every 

 variety of size, fabric, and locality enters into the details of sparrow- 

 nests. If moss and feathers are to be had, none know better how to 

 appropriate them, and if these comforts are scarce, he weaves together 

 bits of rag, straws, wisps of hay, dry grass, and every variety of tex- 

 tile refuse which finds it way out of doors ; sometimes labouring with 

 much pride of heart in the construction of a neat circular nest, and at 

 others, crowding together enough " marine stores" to fill a hat, con- 

 tent with the dirtiest hole at the top of a waterspout for its reception. 

 When he builds in a tree — which is veiy seldom, though Professor 

 Eennie says to the contrary — he usually constructs a domed nest ; 

 that is, a large globular framework of straw and feathers, with a hole 

 in the side for ingress and egress ; so that a good shelter is afforded 

 by the circular roof and walls. In the country he houses under ricks, 

 and in holes in barns, and very often turns the martin out of doors 

 and takes possession of its mud-cabin ; but in town he mostly creeps 

 into the holes and recesses amongst chimneys, eaves, and broken 

 brickwork ; and always covers the floor of his castle with a thick 

 matting to protect his mate and her brood from the cold. 



Owing to the partiality of the sparrow for bits of thread and 

 woollen rag, he sometimes gets entangled in the fastenings of his own 



