NEW THOUGHTS ABOUT NESTS 293 



their nest a mass of fish bones — the residue of 

 their dinners. Then there are the aerial masoi 

 and brickmakers — the eave swallows, who carry 

 earth up into the air, bit by bit, and attach it to 

 the eaves, forming it into a globular, long-necked 

 flask. The barn swallows mix the clay with straw 

 and feathers and so form very firm structures on 

 the rafters above the haymows. 



But what of the many nests of grasses and 

 twigs which we find in the woods? How closely 

 they were concealed while the leaves were on the 

 trees, and how firm and strong they were while in 

 use, the strongest wind and rain of summer only 

 rocking them to and fro ! But now we must waste 

 no time or they will disappear. In a month or 

 more almost all will have dissolved into frag- 

 ments and fallen to earth— their mission accom- 

 plished. 



Some look as if disintegration had already 

 begun, but if we had discovered them earlier in 

 the year, we should have seen that they were 

 never less fragile or loosely constructed than we 

 find them now. Such is a cuckoo's nest, such a 

 mourning dove's or a heron's; merely a flat plat- 

 form of a few interlaced twigs, through which the 

 eggs are visible from below. Why, we ask, are 

 some birds so careless or so unskilful? The 

 European cuckoo, like our cowbird, is a parasite, 

 laying her eggs in the nests of other birds ; so, 

 perhaps, neglect of household duties is in tha 



