ied this species in Manitoba, they will 

 sing a "sweet continuous song while 

 perching on a clod." 



The nests of these Longspurs are 

 usually placed in tufts of grass or other 

 herbage, or they may be built in a slight 

 excavation in the ground, possibly 

 scratched out by the birds, where it is 

 protected by grass or other plants. The 

 nests vary greatly both in size and the 



material used in their construction. They 

 are usually built of grass and moss in- 

 terwoven in a rather thick wall and may 

 or may not be lined with a thick layer of 

 feathers, hair, soft moss or fine grasses. 

 Both sexes are very solicitous for the 

 safety of their eggs and young, and on 

 the approach of an intruder will use 

 every means within their power to at- 

 tract attention from the nest. 



MR. STICKELBACK. 



When the pussy-willows popped out 

 of their brown cradles, Mr. Stickleback 

 decided to built his nest. Now, Mr. 

 Stickleback is not a bird, but a funny 

 little fish, about two inches long, who 

 seems tO' wear his bones on the outside, 

 for he fairly bristles with spikes or 

 spines. This makes him rather a bad 

 mouthful for the enemy who would try 

 to swallow him. But he is a good 

 father. No mother could work harder 

 for her children than he does for his 

 baby Sticklebacks. 



Though he looks fierce, Mr. Stickle- 

 back is usually a peaceable fellow. Only 

 when the red and blue markings begin to 

 come in his coat does he experience a 

 change of heart. Then he is ready to 

 fight anything. Then, also, he turns his 

 attention to the serious things of life, and 

 that was why on this bright spring 

 morning he was thinking of nest build- 

 ing. "I haven't an hour to lose," he 

 said. 'T'm getting red and blue so fast." 

 But he didn't say it out aloud. There 

 were too many Sticklebacks around, and 

 some of them were putting on their shin- 

 ing coats, too. "They'll be cross as sticks 

 and sure to want my place just as soon 

 as I choose it. I'll get ahead of them, 

 though." And thinking this, he swam 

 quietly off until he came to a spot which 

 seemed to suit him exactly. It was on 

 the edge of the pond and right in the soft 

 grasses and roots. When he had swept- 

 the pohd bottom with his tail and made a 

 little hollow, he nibbled off some water 



weeds and fastened them together with 

 threads of tongue root. Before he fin- 

 ished he had to stop to drive away some 

 young tadpoles, who persisted in getting 

 in his way. Then he went to work again, 

 but soon a Stickleback came swimming 

 along. 



These two had been good friends in 

 the days when their coats were dull, but 

 now their feeling was of another charac- 

 ter. 



''Don't you come too near my nest," 

 called the little builder, bristling fiercely. 



"I will if I want to," answered the vis- 

 itor, bristling in his turn. 



Of course, after that there was noth- 

 ing to do but fight. So they swam at 

 each other and flopped and jabbed and 

 lashed, and flopped and jabbed and 

 lashed some more. After that, both were 

 so sore and tired that the unwelcome 

 caller was glad to swim away, and the 

 small builder had to take quite a rest 

 before he went to work again. 



At last his nest was finished. It was 

 open at both ends and looked like a tiny 

 muff. 



"Not at all bad," he said, examining it 

 critically from all sides. "Now I must 

 have some eggs." 



Soon he spied a dull colored Stickle- 

 back. 



"Good morning," he said, in his polit- 

 est tones. "Will you not rest awhile in 

 my nest and leave a few eggs there?" 



"Why, certainly," replied the lady 

 Stickleback, swimming into the nest with 

 her daintiest air. She made a funny 



