478 THE MAGPIE. 



also domed, and surrounded by prickly hedge cuttings. I could 

 hardly get in my hand for thorns. It was woven all round in 

 two tiers — the one forming the cup, the other a dome, with an 

 open space or verandah all round between the cup and the roof, 

 so interlaced that, while the bird could slip easily out and in, it 

 was with difficulty my hand could. In general there is only 

 one hole in the side, just as large as admit the bird. Some 

 hemlock stems in the roof of this nest were three feet long and 

 j in. thick. An old fable says — "The magpie's nest is the best 

 architectural construction of all the birds, and that the magpie 

 was chosen professor to lecture the other birds on the science 

 of nest building. A quantity of material was collected 

 and all the birds invited, but none seemed to listen except the 

 little Jenny Wren and the long-tailed tit, for these were the 

 only two that profited by the lecture, as shown in their domed 

 nests." They have forgot the dipper's. A pair of magpies built 

 in a gooseberry bush, but instead of roofing in their nest, they 

 roofed and encircled the whole bush with briars and 

 thorns as a barricade against prowling cats, foxes, &c, and from 

 what I saw in that bulky nest in the low tree at the quarry I 

 quite believe it. There was the usual compound of clay, grass, 

 and fine roots inside. Sometimes the clay is so thick and hard 

 as to resist shot when on a high tree. This bulky roofed nest 

 reminded me of Tennyson's lines on the " College Council" after 

 its anathemas— 



" You'll have no scandal when you dine, 

 But honest talk and wholesome wine, 

 And only hear the magpie gossip, 

 Garrulous, under a roof of pine.'" 



At least under a roof of thorns. This sprightly bird would 

 indeed " chatter with delight," and " welcome in May," were it 

 allowed to come where it wants to be — near the dwellings of 

 man. It would find plenty of refuse, grubs and worms, hence 

 less need to trench on the game preserve, and fulfil its mission 

 in a less destructive way than it is forced to do through the 

 blind persecution of the very creature it wishes to be near. 

 The birds could do without man, but man could not do without 

 the birds — at least in warm climates — for his crops, his fruits, 

 his skin, and even his life would be worried out of him by 

 swarms of obnoxious insects. An author, writing of the East, 

 says — " The West has its peculiar charms in sun and climate. 

 America is not less dazzling ; but the moral attraction of Asia 

 lies in the sentiment of unity which you feel in a world where 



