there is no other defense for him, I fall back 

 upon his being a bird. Any kind of a bird in 

 the city ! Any but a parrot. 



A pair of sparrows nest regularly in an eaves- 

 trough, so close to the roof that I can overhear 

 their family talk. Eound, loquacious, familiar 

 Cock Sparrow is a family man— so entirely a 

 family man as to be nothing else at all. He is 

 a success, too. It does me good to see him build. 

 He tore the old nest all away in the early winter, 

 so as to be ready. There came a warm springish 

 day in February, and he began. A blizzard 

 stopped him, but with the melting of the snow 

 he went to work again, completing the nest by 

 the middle of March. 



He built for a big family, and he had it. Not 

 "it" indeed, but them; for there were three 

 batches of from six to ten youngsters each dur- 

 ing the course of the season. He also did a fa- 

 ther's share of wol-k with the children. I think 

 he hated hatching them. He would settle upon 

 the roof above the nest, and chirp in a crabbed, 

 imposed-upon tone until his wife came out. As 

 she flew briskly away, he would look disconso- 

 lately around at the bright busy world, ruffle his 



[11] 



