see the home of the little black and white 

 warbler, so cunningly hidden in . the 

 woods at the river's bank, under the 

 roots of a tall hemlock. How the chil- 

 dren ever found it I do not see, but there 

 it is, and it was a red letter day for me 

 when first I saw it. 



Still it rains and so I sit down and 

 take my old deserted homes, and go over 

 each family history in my cozy sitting 

 room and forget all about the dreary out- 

 side world. Would you like to look over 

 my shoulder and enjoy them with me? 

 You are welcome. 



The first box I open shows us the 

 home of the brown thrasher. It is made 

 of coarse sticks, leaves and grasses, 

 securely placed in an old scrub apple tree, 

 where to penetrate in reach of it a sharp 

 knife was brought into use. 



Its relative, the catbird, built her nest 

 in a grape arbor and used a quantity 

 of the bark from the vine in construct- 

 ing it, lining it with fine roots and using 

 paper to fix the foundation. Some Eng- 

 lish sparrows were poisoned near by, and 

 we suspect these catbirds met a like fate, 

 for after laying four blue eggs they died 

 and were found on the lawns, and the 

 deserted home came to be a part of my 

 collection. 



Another relative, the little house 

 wren, built in a box put out for the blue- 

 birds and scolded all birds who came 

 near the tree while her family were de- 

 veloping. 



Let us open this box next. This is the 

 home of the wood thrush, built of 

 grasses and very firmly made. When I 

 first found it there were three beautiful 

 blue eggs in it; after two weeks another 

 visit found no eggs and the home de- 

 serted. It was built near the edge of 

 a wood in a young sapling pine and 

 placed just above my head. 



Beside the thrush's nest is the "dear 

 old robin's" home. It is made of roots 

 and mud and lined with soft grasses and 

 was built in the old apple tree. Their 

 cousins, the bluebirds, gave me a treas- 

 ure indeed. They built their home in an 

 old rusty tin can that once served as a 

 flower vase in the cemetery, but dis- 

 carded with other similar vases it was 

 chosen by a pair of young bluebirds, I 

 think, for their first home. Just as two 

 Little birds were getting uneasy to see 



the world a dog came with his mistress 

 and set the tin can rolling, much to the 

 distress of the parent birds, who imme- 

 diately removed their family to a safer 

 locality. I think they will be wiser for 

 •the next brood and build in a higher 

 locality. 



Here in this box are the homes of the 

 sparrows. This nest so bulky and 

 loosely woven entirely of grasses was 

 placed in a low bush and was the home 

 of "The blessed little song sparrow." I 

 was rather disappointed that so dear a 

 friend should have so> untidy a home. 

 They often place their nests on the 

 ground. This field sparrow's nest, not 

 nearly as large and bulky as the song 

 sparrow's, was also' built in a low bush. 

 This one, the home of the white-throated 

 sparrow, was built on the ground in a 

 hill pasture, where it was almost neces- 

 sary to take a bit of mother earth with 

 the home in order to show its real natural 

 beauty. This, too, was a deserted nest, 

 containing two little speckled eggs. 



This large affair is the home of our 

 British friend, the English sparrow. It" 

 was placed behind a closed blind and 

 built of sticks, straws, rags, string and 

 covered and lined with hen's feathers. 

 The little English lords surely had a 

 warm home. The prettiest sparrow's 

 nest was made by the little chipping 

 sparrow in the woodbine on the piazza. 

 Twine was put out on the woodbine, 

 which the mother used without stint, and 

 nearly covered the outside with the white 

 decorations. Then being so pleased with 

 the outside appearance of her new home 

 she flew far away and brought white 

 horse hair for the inside lining, thus 

 making a very dainty nest. 



This goldfinch's nest is much firmer 

 built than many members of the same 

 family seem to deem necessary for the 

 rearing of the little ones. This one was 

 placed in a maple where the father sang 

 so constantly all summer. Another rela- 

 tive of this same family (Fringillidae) , 

 the rose-breasted grosbeak, built very 

 high up, but right back of a tree, so it 

 was well hidden from view. This nest is 

 made of sticks and lined with grasses ; 

 not a beautiful home for so handsome a 

 bird. 



Let us now look at the flycatcher's 

 home. This pretty nest, so nicely cov- 



