of
two branches join, a little valley is formed, which often looks more
stable than it really is. My sparrow selected one of these little
valleys about six feet from the ground, and quite near the walls of the
house. "Here," she thought, "I will build my nest, and pass the heat of
June in a miniature Norway. This tree is the fir-clad mountain, and this
little vale on its side I select for my own." She carried up a great
quantity of coarse grass and straws for the foundation, just as she
would have done upon the ground. On the top of this mass there gradually
came into shape the delicate structure of her nest, compacting and
refining till its delicate carpet of hairs and threads was reached. So
sly as the little bird was about it, too,--every moment on her guard
lest you discover her secret! Five eggs were laid, and incubation was
far advanced, when the storms and winds came. The cradle indeed did
rock. The boughs did not break, but they swayed and separated as you
would part your two interlocked hands. The ground of the little valley
fairly gave way, the nest tilted over till its contents fell into the
chasm. It was like an earthquake that destroys a hamlet.

No born tree-builder would have placed its nest in such a situation.
Birds that build at the end of the branch, like the oriole, tie the nest
fast; others, like the robin, build against the main trunk; still others
build securely in the fork. The sparrow, in her ignorance, rested her
house upon the spray of two branches, and when the tempest came, the
branches parted company and the nest was engulfed.

A little bob-tailed song sparrow built her nest in a pile of dry brush
very near the kitchen door of a farmhouse on the skirts of the northern
Catskills, where I was passing the summer. It was late in July, and she
had doubtless reared one brood in the earlier season. Her toilet was
decidedly the worse for wear. I noted her day after day, very busy about
the fence and quince bushes between the house and milk house, with her
beak full of coarse straw and hay. To a casual observer, she seemed
flitting about aimlessly, carrying straws from place to place just to
amuse herself. When I came to watch her closely to learn the place of
her nest, she seemed to suspect my intention, and made many little
feints and movements calculated to put me off my track. But I would not
be misled, and presently had her secret. The male did not assist her at
all, but sang much of the time