File:Birds of the wave and woodland. Illustrated by Charles Whymper and others (1894) (14747685004).jpg

Identifier: birdsofwavewoodl00robi (find matches)
Title: Birds of the wave and woodland. Illustrated by Charles Whymper and others
Year: 1894 (1890s)
Authors: Robinson, Philip Stewart, 1894-1902 Whymper, Charles, b. 1853
Subjects: Birds Birds in literature
Publisher: London, Isbister
Contributing Library: Smithsonian Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Smithsonian Libraries

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its very close, andgoes off her nest with a flap of the wings that is unmistake-able. Apart from this, if the bird is not at home, you mayoften find the nest by seeing the white eggs in it from under-neath, the yolks of them showing against the sky a deliciouspinky yellow. For the nest is a mere ghost of a nest—askeleton—and can easily be imitated by taking a handful ofthin birch and hazel twigs and sprinkling them at all anglesin a heap. Such a nest a pair of birds may easily build inhalf an hour, and this, perhaps, is one reason why they arenever seen at work. Why they should be content with sucha skeleton of a nest or how so frail a network bears two bulkynestlincrs and their mother, is a mysterv. But as Prior sines : Each according to her kind Proper material for her nest can find, And bnild a frame which deepest thought in man Would or amend or imitate in vain. When they are on the wing, turtle-doves seem to like tokeep below the level of the tree tops, and seldom, therefore.
Text Appearing After Image:
THE NUTHATCH AT HOME BIRDS OF THE WAVE AND WOODLAND 123 come into sight conspicuously. But I have sate in an orchardand watched them, several together, flying about among theapple-trees, and feeding on the ground, when they wereunconscious of my presence. Their flight is singularlybeautiful and interesting, for the obstructions they meet withcompel them to make the most graceful and sudden evolutionsto avoid collision. And I remember very well, how, as I sate there, look-ing up from my work every now and again at the wing-clapping and testily-cooing strangers, sporting and squabblingby turns, I heard, what I had never heard in that gardenbefore—the tapping of a nuthatch. Nuthatch piercing ivith strong bi/i. South EY. Rap-rap, rap-rap^ I hear thy knocking bill. Montgomery. Tracing up the small smith, I found it busy on thetrunk of an old Scotch fir, where it found, if not ants, acolony of some other small insects, for it was picking them offright and left as they fled along the bark.

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