GATHERED BY THE WAY 
matter of course birds blunder in handling them. 
The oriole uses them the most successfully, often 
attaching her pensile nest to the branch by their aid. 
But she uses them in a blind, childish way, winding 
them round and round the branch, often getting 
them looped over a twig or hopelessly tangled, and 
now and then hanging herself with them, as is the 
case with other birds. I have seen a sparrow, a cedar- 
bird, and a robin each hung by a string it was using 
in the building of itsnest. Last spring, in Spokane, a 
boy brought me a desiccated robin, whose feet were 
held together by a long thread hopelessly snarled. 
The boy had found it hanging to a tree. 
I have seen in a bird magazine a photograph of 
an oriole’s nest that had a string carried around a 
branch apparently a foot or more away, and then 
brought back and the end woven into the nest. It 
was given as a sample of a well-guyed nest, the dis- 
coverer no doubt looking upon it as proof of an 
oriole’s forethought in providing against winds and 
storms. I have seen an oriole’s nest with a string 
carried around a leaf, and another with a long looped 
string hanging free. All such cases simply show 
that the bird was not master of her material; she 
bungled; the trailing string caught over the leaf or 
branch, and she drew both ends in and fastened 
them regardless of what had happened. The inci- 
dent only shows how blindly instinct works. 
Twice I have seen cedar-birds, in their quest for 
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