Extracts from the Diary of a Blue-Tit 345 
dead grass, but she would have none of it, saying moss was the proper thing for a 
foundation; neither would she allow me to take any active part in the building, 
though I was graciously permitted to go with her and carry what she selected. 
April 22nd.—Our nest progresses satisfactorily, and if all goes well will be finished 
in another week. 
April 23rd—Oh, woe is me! This morning when we went to the nest after 
breakfast we found half of it pulled out and lying on the ground; a cat must have 
put its foot in and dragged it out quite early this morning, or else in the night. 
BLUE-TITS. 
There was no doubt whatever that a cat was 
the culprit, for her claw-marks were clearly 
visible on the trunk of the tree. I was mad. 
I used a lot of unnecessary language, swore 
loudly, lamented, wept copiously, and acted 
altogether in a most extravagant manner. Meanwhile my wife sat on a bough overhead 
with a bad attack of “the blues,’ sighing heavily from time to time. At last she 
roused herself and said, ‘‘ Well, there, it’s no use crying over spilt moss, and after all 
it’s far better now than later, when our babes will be in the nest.” We tumed our 
backs on that tree with savage despair in our hearts. 
May Ist.—So disgusted did we feel that for a week we have scarcely been near the 
place, and to-day my wife has decided to start a new nest in the wall of a garden 
