320 LAND BIRDS 
a change of degree rather than kind. He becomes more 
noisy, and the combat with his former comrades is no 
longer for mere fun but for a lady’s favor. If it must 
be won by war, he is ready; if not—well, he has 
already selected a snug spot in an oak tree, protected 
from wind and weather by a broad trunk and heavy foli- 
age, —a charming place for a nest. Will Madam look 
at it? A few days later both are seen bringing twigs, 
rootlets, paper, rags, — anything in fact that she fancies 
and can carry and weave into the characteristic structure. 
Around the top, on the outside, she will, if possible, 
weave dull-colored but never black feathers in an upright 
position curving inward over the cradle. Now, it may 
be that these are intended for ornament; but as they 
wave rakishly,in the wind, they serve the double pur- 
pose of somewhat protecting the eggs and young and 
rendering it almost impossible for an observer to tell 
from below whether or not the mother is brooding. So 
whenever there is a chicken yard within a hundred yards 
of the nest tree, feathers will adorn the nest. Inside it 
is lined with a felted mat of cow hair, wool, or some 
warm material or vegetable fibre. In a week it is com- 
pleted, and an egg is laid each day thereafter until there 
are four. By this time the gay bachelor has become a 
model benedict, bringing the little mother moths, dragon- 
flies, ants, caterpillars, big black crickets without num- 
ber, and bees, — the drones, rarely the workers. When 
she leaves home for a short outing, he sits near the nest 
watching with a great show of alertness, but not daring 
in his masculine awkwardness to brood those precious 
