.102 
BRAMBLES ANL» BAY LEAVES. 
labouring with much pride of heart in the construction 
of a neat circular nest, and at others, crowding together 
enough “marine stores” to fill a hat, content with the 
dirtiest hole at the top of a waterspout for its reception. 
When he builds in a tree—which is very seldom, though 
Professor Rennie says to the contrary—he usually con¬ 
structs a domed nest; that is, a large globular framework 
of straw and feathers, with a hole in the side for ingress 
and egress; so that a good shelter is afforded by the 
circular roof and walls. In the country he houses under 
ricks, and in holes in barns, and very often turns the 
martin out of doors, and takes possession of its mud- 
cabin ; but in town he mostly creeps into the holes and 
recesses amongst chimneys, eaves, and broken brickwork; 
and always covers the floor of his castle with a thick 
matting to protect his mate and her brood from the cold. 
Owing to the partiality of the sparrow for bits of 
thread and woollen rag, he sometimes gets entangled in 
the fastenings of his own tent; and it is not uncommon 
for fierce struggles to take place under the tiles, where 
some unlucky cock or hen has got entrapped. He partly 
deserves this for the careless w r ay in which he builds his 
walls, but he scarcely deserves to be hanged in his own 
noose when pursuing his calling industriously. Such 
fatal catastrophes happen, however, and not a few spar¬ 
rows fall victims to their propensity for woollen goods. 
Rennie relates an instance of a pair of sparrows which 
had carried off a long piece of bass, but when this had 
been successfully stowed in the nest, it appeared they 
had not sufficient skill to work it into the fabric, and 
both birds got their feet inextricably entangled in ihvN 
