THE TAILOR-BIRD 29 
leaf. If it be a large one, the sides are drawn together 
and stitched to keep them in situ. Exactly how the 
sewing is performed and the knot made, I do not know. 
I have not yet had the good fortune to watch the 
process, nor do I know any person who has. If no 
large-leafed plants are available in the selected site, the 
bird has to content itself with smaller leaves, and it 
sews two or more of these together. A leaf of tough 
texture is, of course, a size gud non; one that tears 
easily would not stand the strain of the weight of a 
family of young durztes. I once came across a nest 
of which the threads had torn the leaves very badly, 
and as the youngsters had only just emerged from 
the eggs, I was afraid they would come to an un- 
timely end; but the leaf did hold out, and the chicks 
went forth into the world with all their little limbs 
intact, 
The nest, which is thus a kind of purse or pocket, is 
well lined with cotton or other soft material, and looks 
remarkably cosy when completed. It is almost invari- 
ably placed within three feet of the ground, and is 
usually in the neighbourhood of a human habitation. 
There was a tailor-bird’s nest this year in one of the 
plants outside the verandah of the Grand Stand on the 
“Tsland” at Madras. The nests are common enough, 
but so cunningly are they wrought that they are not 
easy to find. Last April, a friend of mine was trim- 
ming his cannas when he noticed that one of the 
leaves was withering, so cut it off. After he had severed 
it from the plant, he discovered in it a nearly completed 
tailor-bird’s nest. He then stuck the leaf back into the 
