Windfalls 179 



The hollows occupied by owls or any animal 

 other than a mouse would be avoided, but 

 there is usually room enough for all. I was 

 glad to see and hear the song-sparrows. In 

 a corner of the orchard there has long been 

 a heap of rubbish. Trifling windfalls from 

 the door-yard pines, woody weeds that per- 

 sisted in springing up where only modest 

 grass should grow, and the thousand and one 

 odds and ends that should have been burned 

 were gathered here, and everybody has been 

 too busy or too lazy to apply a match. The 

 growing heap has been an eyesore for years, 

 but to-day it was almost pretty. The song- 

 sparrows were in possession, and were as 

 tuneful as in the early April days, when they 

 took time by the forelock and squatted here, 

 knowing that a nest in such a tangle was 

 comparatively safe. To-day the brush-heap 

 is positively pretty : the dead twigs in admi- 

 rable disorder captivating the eye, because 

 the home of sparrows whose songs ever 

 captivate the ear. For an hour these birds 

 declared their happiness from their chosen 

 home, and while they sang I listened. Then 

 the shadow, but that only, of a sharp-shinned 

 hawk fell upon them, and I took a few forward 



