70 APRIL. 



rock too dangerous to climb; sticks split at the 

 end, are thrust into every hollow in wall, eaves, 

 or tree-trunk, to twist out the hidden nest ; and 

 I myself recollect being held by the heels over 

 an old coal-pit sixty yards deep to reach a 

 blackbird's nest built in a hole two or three feet 

 below the surface of the ground. 



But it is not boys merely who are struck with 

 the beauty of birds' nests and eggs, and with 

 the picturesque situations in which they are 

 placed; there are few people of taste residing 

 in the country who do not see them with a live- 

 ly pleasure. Let us take a survey of these in- 

 teresting objects. Let us suppose that we are 

 in an old farm-house. The chimney is inha- 

 bited by the swallow, and the eaves by the mar- 

 tin, who have there fixed their mud nests, lined 

 them with feathers, and laid in them their five 

 or six white eggs spotted with red. The spar- 

 rows have found a crevice in the eaves, or the 

 roof, or if it be of thatch, have scooped them- 

 selves a large hole, and therein made their nests 

 of hay, lined them with feathers, and laid, each 

 pair, five black-spotted eggs. In defect of a 

 good situation in the house, they disdain not 

 to fix their nest, like a wisp of hay, in a tree 

 near it. They delight, too, to build amongst the 

 sticks of rook-nests, particularly under the mud 

 bottom, which forms a brave roof and defence 



