344 



RECREATION 



TWO SOULS WITH BUT A SINGLE THOUGHT 

 (SPARROWS) By H. Qriswell 



them over the 

 water, and many 

 is the sousing a 

 thieving monkey 

 gets, when trying 

 to climb out to 

 the nest on the 

 swaying, pliant 

 twigs. 



One of the 

 most energetic of 

 nest-builders is 

 the marsh wren, 

 in fact, he has 

 the habit to such 

 a degree that he 

 cannot stop with 

 one nest, but goes 

 on building four 

 or five in rapid 

 succession. And 



there is nothing slovenly about his 

 work either. Look among the cat- 

 tails in the nearest marsh, even with- 

 in the limits of a great city, and you 

 will find his little woven balls of 

 reed stems with a tiny round hole 

 in one side. There is a certain meth- 

 od even in his madness, for the nest 

 in which his wife is brooding her 

 seven or eight eggs is less likely to 

 be found when there are so many 

 empty ones around. Then, too, he 

 uses the others as roosting places 

 for himself. 



We must never forget, when we 



BREAKFAST FOR TWO 

 (EGRETS) By 



are examining a nest, that it is built 

 with only two tools — two straight 

 pieces of horn — the beak, which is 

 to a bird what hands, fingers and 

 machinery are to us. 



It is interesting to try to imagine 

 what the first nest was like. We 

 know that many millions of years 

 ago birds had long, lizard-like tails 

 with a row of feathers down eacli 

 side. They had teeth in their beaks 

 and two or three thin, slender fingers 

 in front of each wing, which they 

 used, perhaps, as a bat uses the claw 

 on its thumb. Lizards of to-day hide 

 their eggs under pieces of bark, and 

 it is probable that the leathery, thick- 

 shelled eggs of these birds of old 

 were placed in 

 some convenient 

 knot-hole in the 

 great conifers 

 which grew in 

 those days. We 

 see that many of 

 their descendants 

 have learned to 

 make elaborate 

 and beautiful 

 nests, but others 

 have clung to the 

 old customs and 

 in the nearest 

 orchard we may 

 find our friend 

 the bluebird, car- 



AWAY FROM HOME AND 



MOTHER (SANDERLING) 



By W. E. Carlin 



