they fashion a little cup-shaped nest, warmly lined with fine bits of hay, hair, and feathers. Sometimes twenty or thirty swallows will build side by side in the same barn. They never quarrel, but seem to live together in the most happy friendship.

The woodpeckers cut places for themselves in the trunks of trees. They have short bills, very sharp and hard; and the tapping they make with them may be heard a good way off. When they find a suitable tree, the father bird begins to cut a hole, as round and smooth as if made by a carpenter's tool. While he rests, the mother bird does her share. They carefully carry away all the chips they make; probably to avoid drawing attention to the nest. The entrance is just big enough for the bird to pass through. It slopes downward, and terminates in a little room as neat as if made by a cabinet maker. Some kinds make it eighteen or twenty inches deep, others three or four feet. But in spite of the pains they take to place their little ones in safety, an ugly snake sometimes gets in and eats them up.

The house wren is a great annoyance to the woodpecker. Though a very small bird, she is very pert, noisy, and mischievous. When a woodpecker begins his house, she watches till she thinks he has made a hole deep enough to suit her purpose, and then, while he has gone to carry off his chips, the impudent thing walks in and takes possession. I once saw a very amusing contest between these birds. The wren stole a nicely-chiselled hole, and began to make her nest. While she was gone for food, the woodpecker came back, and pitched all her feathers and twigs out of doors. The wren kept up a shrill scolding about it, and as soon as the woodpecker left the hole, she carried back all the straw and feathers.

But the moment she left her stolen tenement, the woodpecker tossed them all out again. Birds of various kinds and sizes gathered round to witness the quarrel, and made as loud a chattering about it as if they had called an extra session of Congress to settle the dispute. At last, the woodpecker went

off to cut a hole in another tree. If the wren had known where he went, I dare say she would have followed him, and turned him out of his own house again.

The purple martins, for whom we build such pretty little martin boxes on our barns and outhouses, are likewise much plagued by the bustling, scolding little wren. She quarrels with the martins, breaks up their nests while they are away from home, and takes possession herself. A gentleman who watched one of these fights says the martins, at last, went into the box when the wren was absent, and built up the opening with clay and straw, so that she could not get in. The wren, after fluttering round for two days, finally went off, and left the martin in peace.

The Baltimore oriole, or golden robin, which has black plumage mixed with orange and red, weaves a strong, clothlike nest of flax, or hemp, or tow, hangs it from a forked twig, and sews it firmly with long horse hair. They will carry off skeins of thread, and strings from the grafts of trees, to weave into their curious nests. Near the top there is a hole for entrance. The inside is lined with soft substances, and finished with a neat layer of hair. One of these ingenious birds, having found an old epaulet, pulled it to pieces, and wove a nest of silver wire. The officer who wore it little thought it would ever come to such a use.

Some birds form their nests of a kind of cement. There is a small, gray bird, in China, which builds in caves near the sea shore, and their nests are firmly glued against the rock. They are of a substance like isinglass,* supposed to be manufactured by the birds from a glutinous † kind of fish spawn ‡ that floats upon the surface of the sea. They are called edible, or eatable, birds' nests, because the Chinese eat them,

*Isinglass, a whitish substance, made from parts of fishes, used in cook

ery.

+ Glutinous, sticky, like glue, or gum.

Fish spawn, the eggs of fish, which are very small, and stuck together, like sand, or fine gravel.

and are very fond of them. They use them to thicken soup with. It seems a very funny idea to eat the nests of birds; but men not only derive food from this source, but also warmth. The eider down with which we line cloaks and bed quilts is plucked from the breast of a duck, and put into her nest, to keep her young warm.

We hope that every boy, who reads how much pains these pretty creatures take to make a safe and comfortable home for their little ones, will resolve that he will never harm a bird's nest. To rob a bird of her nest, or her eggs, is like stealing a baby in its cradle, and leaving the poor mother to grieve.

XVI. -THE SAME SUBJECT IN VERSE.

MISS TAYLOR.

Now the sun rises bright and soars high in the air,
The trees smile around us in green;

The sweet little birds to the meadows repair,
And pick up the moss, and lambs' wool, and hair,
To make their nests soft, warm, and clean.

High up in some tree, far away from the town,
Where the naughty boys cannot creep,

They build it with twigs, and they line it with down,
And lay their neat eggs, speckled over with brown,
And sit till the little ones peep.

Then come, little boy, let us go to the wood,
And climb up the very tall tree;

And while the old birds are gone to get food,

We'll take down the nest, and the chirruping brood,
And divide them betwixt you and me.

But ah! don't you think 'twould be wicked and bad
To take their poor nestlings away,

And, after the toil and trouble they've had,

When they think themselves safe, and are singing so glad,
To spoil all their work for our play?

Suppose that some monster, a dozen yards high,
Should stalk up at night to your bed,
And out of the window along with you fly,
And stop not to bid your dear parents good by,
Nor care for a word that you said, -

And take you away, not a creature knows where,
And fasten you down with a chain,

And feed you with victuals you never could bear,
And hardly allow you to breathe the fresh air,
Or ever to come back again!

O, how would you cry for your

And long to her bosom to run,

dearest mamma,

And beat your poor head at your hard prison bar,
And hate the vile monster that took you so far,
For nothing at all but his fun!

Then say, little boy, shall we climb the tall tree?
Ah, no! but this lesson we'll learn,

That 'twould just as cruel and terrible be,

As if a great monster should take away thee,
Not ever again to return.

Then sleep, little innocents, sleep in your nest;

We mean not to take you away;

And when the next summer shall wear her green vest,
And the woods in a robe of rich foliage be dressed,

Your songs shall our kindness repay.

When the spring shall return, to the woodlands we'll hie,
And sit by yon very tall tree,

And rejoice, as we hear your carols on high,
With silken wings soaring amid the blue sky,
That we left you to sing and be free.