THE TRAGEDIES OF THE NESTS. yids 
A correspondent writes me that one of his orioles 
got entangled in a cord while building her nest, and 
that though by the aid of a ladder he reached and 
liberated her, she died soon afterward. He also 
found a “chippie” (called also “hair bird”) sus- 
pended from a branch by a horse-hair, beneath a 
partly-constructed nest. I heard of a cedar-bird 
caught and destroyed in the same way, and of two 
young bluebirds, around whose legs a horse-hair had 
become so tightly wound that the legs withered up 
and dropped off. The birds became fledged, and 
finally left the nest with the others. Such tragedies 
are probably quite common. 
Before the advent of civilization in this country, the 
oriole probably built a much deeper nest than it usu- 
ally does at present. When now it builds in remote 
trees and along the borders of the woods, its nest, I 
have noticed, is long and gourd-shaped ; but in or- 
chards and near dwellings it is only a deep cup or 
pouch. It shortens it up in proportion as the danger 
lessens. Probably a succession of disastrous years, 
like the one under review, would cause it to lengthen 
it again beyond the reach of owl’s talons or jay-bird’s 
beak. 
The first song-sparrow’s nest I observed in the 
spring of 1881 was in the field under a fragment of a 
board, the board being raised from the ground a 
couple of inches by two poles. It had its full com- 
plement of eggs, and probably sent forth a brood of 
young birds, though as to this I cannot speak posi- 
tively, as I neglected to observe it further. It was 
well sheltered and concealed, and was not easily come 
at by any of its natural enemies, save snakes and 
weasels. But concealment often avails little. In 
