362 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



A BIT FROM SPARROWLAND. 



By Alice J. Nichols. 



Our Jersey home had an unused room, the window blinds of which 

 were always kept closed, but with the shutters open. Mr. and Mrs. 

 Sparrow were perhaps students of social or household economics and 

 did not believe in a room being utterly unused, or perhaps they 

 specially admired the view from that window looking out upon the oaks 

 and hickories and tangles of grasses and ferns, and the wild, sweet 

 things which Nature seems to create for the mere pleasure of it. At 

 all events we found them busily at work one early spring morning 

 carrying straws for a nest and weaving them together inside our win- 

 dow blind. Later on by cautiously raising the window when the 

 mother bird was absent, we could see into the nest, and counted four 

 speckled white eggs. After a time we heard twitterings and peepings 

 and knew that four tiny babies were cuddled up in their little straw 

 home. Then we did not dare raise the window for fear of possibly 

 harming one of the wee mites, and had to content ourselves with put- 

 ting our faces close to the window, getting sometimes a side-ways 

 glance at them. One day while the mother was away I was endeavor- 

 ing to see them when Mrs. Sparrow suddenly returned and found the 

 face of one of those great humans pressed clo-se against the window by 

 her babies. I have never seen a more frightened creature. She hop- 

 ped up and down with fear, if one may speak of "hopping" in the air, 

 and seemed to almost lose her senses at thought of the great peril she 

 fancied her children to be in; then flew to the oak tree in front of the 

 window where she could keep guard. I made haste to go away, sorry 

 and ashamed for having caused pain to the mother-heart of even a 

 sparrow. 



I was away from home then for two months, when I returned I was 

 told that my little sparrow family had long ago been taught to fly and 

 had gone away, and now a second brood was just ready to leave the 

 nest. Well, sparrow birds are much alike to casual observer, and it 

 would doubtless be just as interesting to watch these as the first ones, 

 so I sheltered myself in the swing under the trees with a book, but 

 ready to note if anything interesting occurred. There was much fly- 

 ing and fluttering going on, the little ones venturing out as far as the 

 limbs of the nearby oak tree, and then dashing back home again, evi- 

 dently a bit fearful of the big world beyond. After a time I noticed 

 that the father bird would drive away the little ones as fast as they 

 came back to the nest, scolding in language which, while I was too ig- 

 norant of their speech to fully understand, had a fearful sound. Evi- 

 dently he was saying. "Now young sparrows, you are grown up and it 



