NESTS AND NESTLINGS. 43 



which, of course had reference to the slightness of the frame- 

 work of her nest. 



Of absolutely solid structure in nests one of the best 

 examples is that of the house martin or of the swallow. Many 

 a house in China may be seen with its little wooden platform 

 near the ceiling, placed there on purpose to form the basis 

 of a martin's nest, the birds belonging to the family as much 

 as the children do. Very pretty, and highly suggestive of the 

 gentler side of Chinese nature, is this. The nest of the edible 

 swallow, as we sometimes find the edible nest of Collocalia 

 fuciphaga referred to, is formed mainly of gelatinous matter 

 in the form of a very small and shallow saucer, but so far as 

 I know these are all tropical. 



But the man who hopes to make himself acquainted with 

 all the varieties and variations in nest formation has a life's 

 task. We can but glance at a few. Our local bulbul, for 

 example, shows us that the selection of material is a matter 

 of great importance to some birds. Nothing but the fibres 

 of our ordinary fan palm, those fibres which the Chinese 

 sometimes use for rain coats, will satisfy her fastidious taste. 

 No straw, no leaves, nothing but this brown coloured fibrous 

 matter, frequently chosen doubtless to render the nest incon- 

 spicuous on the background selected for it. Another, in a 

 different position, had similar fine kind of fibre, but of a lighter 

 colour, and made of ordinary vegetable matter. The shrike 

 takes rougher material for the outside, but likes something 

 softer within. One of the reed-warblers builds its nest entirely 

 of the long leaves of reeds wound round and round and in and 

 out, the interior being very comfortable indeed. The long- 

 tailed tit makes perhaps the most delicate structure of all our 

 ordinary birds. It is a round mass of soft woolly fibres, 

 shaped like that of the English wren, with a hole for entrance 

 high up on one side. In not a few cases the outside is 

 covered more or less with bits of rock lichen, light in colour. 

 The tailor-bird actually sews leaves together to form a 

 pendent receptacle in which the cosiest of homes is made 

 for the little Sylvia sntorins. There is a specimen nest in 

 the Shanghai Museum, but that is probably from the far 

 south, perhaps from India. There is also a beautifully made 

 nest of a weaver-bird, probably from Africa. 



But our own gardens will supply a nest only one or two 

 degrees less interesting than these, the nest of the golden 

 oriole, for whilst the great majority of nests have a foundation 

 more or less solid, the oriole frequently dispenses with the 

 foundation altogether and hangs its nest to a branch, or 

 more often, two or three close together. For a bird this 

 arrangement is highly ingenious. Naturally the material 

 required differs widely from that needed for nests with a 



