WILD LIFE OF ORCHARD AND FIELD 



moved. If the nest had slowly and silently grown, 

 like the grass and the moss, it could not have been 

 more nicely adjusted to its place and surroundings. 

 There is absolutely nothing to tell the eye it is 

 there. Generally a few spears of dry grass fall 

 down from the turf above, and form a slight screen 

 before it. How commonly and coarsely it begins, 

 blending with the debris that lies about, and how 

 it refines and comes to the centre, which is mod- 

 elled so perfectly and lined so softly I '* 



Grasses are the timbers of the house — coarse 

 stalks upon the outside, fine stems and soft leaves 

 twined within; the edge of the nest overcast. It 

 seems to be well proved that the nests found on 

 the ground are built by young birds, while older 

 and more experienced sparrows place their houses 

 in vines and small trees, finding that at a little 

 height they are less liable to danger; furthermore, 

 these nests built at an elevation, being more ex- 

 posed to the wind and less braced, are more com- 

 pactly and skilfully constructed than those on the 

 ground, the projecting ends of the straws being 

 neatly interwoven, or tied down, so as to present 

 a tolerably smooth exterior. The nests in the 

 tussocks seem manufactured chiefly out of the 

 dead stems of crab-grasses and other stuff with- 



152 



