April in Berkeley. 



there a bit of lichen, bark or cobweb in 

 its proper place on the outside. Thus 

 she works until the compact little struct- 

 ure of softest thistle-down, covered on 

 the outside with small fragments of moss, 

 lichen, bark and similar materials, is 

 ready to receive the invariable two white 

 eggs. In due course of time the most 

 helpless young imaginable are hatched, 

 to be tended with unremitting care. 

 They soon grow so large that their 

 diminutive home can scarcely contain 

 them until, at last, from the sheer 

 physical necessity of overcrowded quar- 

 ters, they are forced to essay a flight. 

 Wonderful, indeed, is the domestic life 

 of these smallest of birds, in whose 

 minute frame is compacted so much of 

 intelligence and passion — so much that 

 we fondly claim as human. 



Upon some fine morning in early 

 April we may hear a sprightly warbling 

 song which gives notice of the arrival of 

 a new comer. Looking among the deli- 

 cate spring foliage we may soon detect a 

 i6i 



