212 What Birds Have Done With Me 



bosom of Mother Nature to the flat roof of a 

 city block, where it is not infrequently found 

 nesting. 



The Mourning Dove is one of the most in- 

 artistic and slovenly of nest builders, often mak- 

 ing so shallow and poorly-constructed a nest that 

 a sudden movement from fright will cause her to 

 knock out of the nest one or both of her eggs. 

 What is true of the Mourning Dove was equally 

 true of the Passenger Pigeon and I recall the 

 same kind of accident to a Pigeon nest that I was 

 watching, many years ago; first, one egg and, a 

 few days afterward, the second were knocked out 

 and broken by the mother bird. That various 

 birds have ideas of adornment and ornamentation 

 is beyond question. I saw a Robin's nest, this last 

 season built in a passage-way beside lattice work 

 and on the side opposite of the lattice work, 

 streamers of heavy cord had been attached to 

 the nest and hung down three and four feet. How 

 else are we to explain the shifted snake-skin that 

 the Great Fly-Catcher twists around its nest? 

 Bright pieces of yarn and ribbon will take the eye 

 of many a bird as "the weave of a kiltie will 

 take the eye of a lassie," according to Harry 

 Lauder, and whatever else the tartan is, it must 

 be bright to be most pleasing. 



I recall a Wren's nest built in a gaudily-painted 

 watering pot, the wrecked plaything of a child, 



