56 
BIRD CRADLES. 
attraction, it “will build in anything 
that has an accessible cavity, from an old 
boot to a bombshell,” says Burroughs. 
But whether a palatial tin box, a post- 
hole, a tin oil-can, auger-hole, pump- 
spout, pocket of an old coat, wheel-hub, 
or tomato-can, the interior is always 
brought to the same level of luxury in 
its copious feather-bed, 
I remember once, in the days of my 
early ornithological fervor, discovering 
a wren’s nest in a shallow knot-hole of 
an old apple-tree. The bird scolded and 
sputtered at the entrance like a typical 
setting hen, and even suffered herself to 
be poked from the hole ; and if there be 
those who think that birds cannot swear, 
they should have witnessed the subse¬ 
quent vocal exercises. The feather-bed 
disclosed twelve pinkish eggs by actual 
count, for I remember in humiliation my 
scandalous pride at having “ eleven du¬ 
plicates for trade,” 
There are a number of especially well- 
known favorites among the nests which 
should be mentioned, either one of which 
is a sufficient quest for a summer’s 
walk. 
There is the grass hammock of the in¬ 
digo bird, so artfully swung between two 
or three upright branches of weed; the 
skilfully woven basket of the red-wing 
blackbird in the bog, either meshed 
within its tussock, twisted into the but¬ 
ton-bush, or suspended among the reeds. 
Then there are the quaint covered nests 
of the oven bird at the edge of the 
brook, the bee-hive of the marsh-wren 
among the sedges, or the Maryland yel¬ 
low-throat in the swamp, and the rare 
snuggeries of the golden - crested wren 
and blue, yellow - backed warbler — the 
former a tiny hermitage, built on the 
branch of an evergreen, composed of 
moss and lichen, with only a small hole 
left for entrance, and the interior lined 
with down; the latter a dainty den, con¬ 
structed, according to Samuels, of the 
“long gray Spanish moss (lichen?) so 
plentiful in the States of Maine, New 
Hampshire, and Vermont. The long hairs 
of the moss are woven and twined together 
in a large mass, on one side of which is 
the entrance to the nest—a mere hole in 
the moss. The lining is nothing but 
the same material, only of finer quality.” 
I have seen but two specimens of this 
nest—one composed entirely of the long 
gray lichen which beards the patriar¬ 
chal trees of our Northern forests and 
the other of a shorter species found on 
fences and rocks. 
The nest of the blue-winged yellow 
warbler is really worth a search. Few 
of our ornithologists have found it. 
According to Wilson, it is usually placed 
in a bunch or tussock of long grass, and 
is in the form of an inverted cone or 
funnel, the bottom thickly bedded with 
dry beech-leaves, the sides formed of the 
dry bark of strong weeds, lined with 
fine dr}’^ grass. These materials are not 
placed in the usual manner, circularly, 
but shelving downward on all sides from 
the top, the mouth being wide, the bot¬ 
tom very narrow and filled with leaves. 
Nor must I forget to mention that curi¬ 
ous and anomalous three-, four-, and once 
I beheve five-storied nest which occasion¬ 
ally rewards the search of the persevering 
oologist—a true piece of architectural 
art, each compartment perhaps with its 
single repudiated speckled egg—a mon¬ 
ument as it were to the intelligence and 
indefatigable pluck of the yellow warbler 
in overtojDping the wit of the parasitic 
cow-bird, each story of the curious domi¬ 
cile being erected over the insinuated 
portentous egg, and sufficiently separ¬ 
ated therefrom to insure against its 
incubation, when the bird shall at last 
have exhausted her adversary’s re¬ 
sources and nestled in peace on the sum¬ 
mit of her lofty pile, an apt, if facetious 
embodiment of “Patience on a monu¬ 
ment.” 
We have already alluded in superla¬ 
tive terms to the nest of the blue-gray 
gnatcatcher, but even that artistic pro¬ 
duction must yield to its easy rival and 
model of the humming-bird, in truth 
the prize among all our nests. Well 
does the ruby-throat deserve the golden 
medal which he wears upon his breast. 
From picture or cabinet specimens this 
beautiful mimetic structure saddled on 
its branch is familiar to most of my 
readers, few of whom, I am sure, will ever 
have disclosed it in its haunts, even 
though the eye may have rested on it 
a dozen times. The construction of this 
nest, barely an inch and a half in di¬ 
ameter, is well described by Wilson ; 
“ The outward coat is formed of small 
