BIRD INTIMACIES 



yond the reach of four-footed prowlers, is almost 

 ideal. It certainly is a happy thought. 



The least flycatcher, the kingbird, the cedar-bird, 

 the goldfinch, the indigo-bird, are all fine nest- 

 builders, each with a style of its own. 



About the most insecure nest in our trees is that 

 of the little social sparrow, or "chippie." When 

 the sudden summer storms come, making the tree- 

 tops writhe as if in agony, I think of this frail nest 

 amid the tossing branches. Pass through the grove 

 or orchard after the tempest is over, and you are 

 pretty sure to find several wrecked nests upon the 

 ground. "Chippie" has never learned the art of 

 nest-building in trees. She is a poor architect. 

 She should have kept to the ground or to the low 

 bushes. The true tree nest-builders weave their 

 nests fast to the branches, but "Chippie" does not; 

 she simply arranges her material loosely between 

 them, where the nest is supported, but not secured. 

 She seems pathetically ignorant of the fact that 

 there are such things as wind and storm. Hence 

 her frail structure is more frequently dislodged from 

 the trees than that of any other bird. 



Recently, after a day of violent northwest wind, 

 I found a wrecked robin's nest and eggs upon the 

 lawn under a maple — not a frequent spectacle. 

 The robin's firm masonry is usually proof against 

 wind and rain, but in this case the nest was com- 

 posed almost entirely of dry grass; there was hardly 



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