s began.

THINGS TO DO

[Illustration: Nests of Kingbird, Oriole, Vireo, Robin, Goldfinch,
Phoebe (1/4 life size)]

Things to Do

TALE 73

Bird-nesting in Winter

What good are old bird-nests? These are some of the ends they serve. A
Deermouse seeking the safety of a bramble thicket and a warm house, will
make his own nest in the forsaken home of a Cat-bird. A Gray Squirrel
will roof over the open nest of a Crow or Hawk and so make it a castle
in the air for himself. But one of the strangest uses is this: The
Solitary Sandpiper is a bird that cannot build a tree nest for itself
and yet loves to give to its eggs the safety of a high place; so it lays
in the old nest of a Robin, or other tree bird, and there its young are
hatched. But this is only in the Far North. There are plenty of old
bird-nests left for other uses, and for you.

Bird-nesting in summer is wicked, cruel, and against the law. But
bird-nesting in winter is good fun and harms no one, if we take only the
little nests that are built in forked twigs, or on rock ledges. For most
little birds prefer to make a new nest for themselves each season.

If you get: A Goldfinch, floss nest;

A Phoebe, moss nest;

A Robin, mud nest;

A Vireo, good nest;

A Kingbird, rag nest;

An Oriole, bag nest;

you have six different kinds of beautiful nests that are easily kept
for the museum, and you do no harm in taking them.

TALE 74

The Ox-eye Daisy or Marguerite

[Illustration: The Ox-eye Daisy or Marguerite]

Do you know that "Daisy" means "day's eye," because the old country
Daisy opens its eyes when day comes, and shuts them every night. But our
Daisy is different and much bigger, so we have got into the way of
calling it "Ox-eye." Some of our young people call it "Love-me;
love-me-not," because they think it can tell if one is loved. They pull
out the white rays of the flower one by one, saying, "He loves me; he
loves me not; he loves me; he loves me not." Then what they are saying
as the last is pulled, settles the question. If the Daisy says "He loves
me," they take a second Daisy and ask the next question, "Will he marry
me?" Then, pulling the rays as before, "This year, next year, some time,
never." And in this way they learn all that the Daisies know about these
important matters.

We call it "our Daisy," but it is not a true native of America. Its home
is Europe. The settlers of New England, missing the flower of their
ho