GOSSIP ABOUT BIRDS’ NESTS. 231

my recollection a year or two ago by the somewhat com-
plaining remark of an official at one of the churches in
this district, that he had just been removing about three
barrow-loads of sticks introduced through a small loophole
in the church tower by “thae nasty bods (birds).” But
it was the work, no doubt, of many pairs of birds in this
instance: in the other it was the doing of a single couple;
and very marvellous was the application of so much labour
and perseverance carried on to such a result. The scene
of the transaction was a winding or corkscrew staircase
in a turret tower, to which admission was gained by the
birds through one of the usual slits in the solid masonry.
Strange to say the foundation of the intended nest was
laid nearly ten feet below the level of the aperture, and
with incredible labour stick after stick was brought and
deposited until a sort of resting-place for the platform
which was to bear the nest was obtained, and then the
piling up was continued, until at last the nest proper was
built at no great distance below the bottom of the slit,
the eggs were laid, and the young reared. I have seen
ravens nests, one over another, the accumulation of
successive years, continued until the architect birds, dis-
trusting the capability of the supporting boughs, left the
old pile, and built a new nest in an adjoining limb or
tree. But the largest structure of this kind I ever saw
was one which reached up about the height of my breast,
when I was a boy of fourteen or fifteen. Yet this jack-
daw’s nest was built on a heap of new sticks more than
twice my height at that age.

Tn fact there is scarcely any limit to the industry and
resolution of our feathered friends when the nest-building
impulse is fully on them; and it is by no means confined
to the collection and compilation of the necessary materials
which what seems an abnormally selected site appears to
call for. Here is an instance of another sort, Mr. Gurney
of Cotton Park being the narrator :—‘ About the end of
June a spotted fly-catcher began to build a nest over the
door of the lodge at the entrance of my grounds. The
lodge-keeper not wishing the bird to build there, destroyed
the commencement of the nest; every day for a week
the bird placed new materials on the same ledge over the
door, and every day the woman removed them, and at
the end of the week placed a stone on the ledge, which
effectually baflled the fly-catcher’s efforts at that spot.
But the bird then began building at the farther end of
the ledge, from whence it was also driven; and, three
stones being then placed on the ledge, the bird relinquished
the attempt to build at either end of it, and commenced
building a nest on a beech-tree opposite, which it com-
pleted, and laid two eggs in it. When the bird was thus
apparently established in the tree the stones over the
door were taken away, when the fly-catcher immediately
forsook its nest and eggs, and again commenced building
over the door, on the part of the projecting ledge which
it had first chosen. The nest was again destroyed, and
two slates placed over the spot. The bird contrived to
throw one of the slates from a slanting to a horizontal
position, and then began to build upon it. The nest was
again destroyed and the three stones replaced, and kept
there a fortnight, after which they were again removed,
and directly after they were taken away the bird again
began building. The nest was subsequently destroyed
several times in succession; the bird was twice driven
away by a towel being thrown at it; a stone, wrapped in
white paper, was placed on the ledge to intimidate it;

pam”

but the fly-catcher still persevered, completed a nest, and
laid an egg. On hearing the circumstances I directed
that the persecution of the poor bird should cease, after
which it laid two more eggs, hatched all three, and
successfully brought off its brood.”

This narrative is very remarkable, for in so many
cases birds generally are only too ready not only to give
up or discontinue projected or commenced nest-building,

if subjected to annoyance or disturbance in their proceed- |

ings, but even to forsake them, and notwithstanding the
circumstance that their full complement of eggs may
have been laid, or their young actually hatched and in
part reared. Instances of the opposite description, how-
ever, are not rare, and the following is one of the sort,
recorded by the eminent bird historian, Mr. Yarrell:—
“Tn the spring of 1832, walking through an orchard, I
was attracted by something on the ground in the form of
a large ball, composed of dry grass. I took it up in my
hands and upon examination found it was a domed nest
of the willow wren. Concerned at my precipitation I
put it down again as near the same place as I could, but
with very little hope that the architect would ever claim
it again after such an attack. I was, however, agreeably
surprised to find next day that the little occupier was
still proceeding with its work. The feathers inside were
increased, as I could perceive by the alteration in colour.
In a few days two eggs were laid, and I thought my
little protégés safe from harm, when a flock of ducks that
had strayed from the poultry-yard, with their usual
curiosity went straight to the nest (which was very
conspicuous, as the grass had not grown high enough to
conceal it) and with their bills spread it quite open,

displaced the eggs, and made the nest a complete ruin..

I now despaired; but immediately driving the authors of
the mischief away, I tried to restore the nest to its proper
form, and replaced the eggs inside. That same day I was
astonished to find the addition of another egg, and in
about a week four more. The bird sat, and ultimately
brought out seven young ones. But I cannot help
supposing it a singular instance of attachment and con-
fidence, after being twice so rudely disturbed.” In
another case, implicating another pair of little willow-
wrens, and occurring under my own notice, the upper
half, or at least one-third, of the domed nest was taken
off by a sweep of the gardener’s svythe. Notwithstand-
ing which trenchant blow, and the utter ruin to a build:
ing consequent on removing its roof and upper story at
one cut, damages were speedily repaired, the eggs already
laid added to, sat upon, and in due time hatched.

But there are still other instances on record, in some
respects more remarkable than the last, connected with
birds and their nests. In one such instance a pair of
robins built their nest in the tilt of a covered carrier's
cart or waggon. The nest, it would seem, had been
completed during a temporary cessation of travelling by
the cart and its owner; but when the habitual goings and
comings were resumed, the robins so far from forsaking
their nest, commenced “ going and coming,” too ; were the
companions of the carrier in all his journeyings and stop-
pings ; hatched, fed, reared, and, finally, brought off their
brood. Another instance, stranger still, it almost seems,
shows us a pair of robins building withinside the paddle-
box of a small ferry-steamer, which was almost perpetu-
ally in motion as it plied between the two limits of its

restless voyages. The nest was built amid the rushings,