and such is the confident familiarity obtained by long intercourse,
that from the thatched roof of the peasant’s cottage
to the sculptured column of the prince’s palace, all buildings
are alike subject to its intrusion. Everywhere hold, active,
vigilant and assuming, there is yet this difference observable,
the bird that is reared in the smoky city affords but a poor
example of the colours ornamenting that which is seen in
the countryman’s garden, or at the farmer’s barn-door.
Our Sparrow pairs early in the year, and being one of the
most prolific of birds, great animosity and numerous contests
for choice or possession occur at this season. There are few
who have not witnessed in spring the. scuffle and confusion
of a Sparrow-fight, when five or six cocks may he seen
engaged in indiscriminately attacking, buflfetting, biting and
scrambling over each other, with all the chatter and fury of
excited rage; but the matter in dispute being adjusted, each
retires from the contest to attend to his mate and the more
important duties of the season. Their nests are placed
under the eaves of tiled or thatched roofs, in holes of walls, in
the spouts of water-pipes, or in any crevice that will afford
sufficient space and seeming security. But while availing
itself of all these and several more sorts of artificial accommodation,
the Sparrow often, and especially as summer draws
on, builds for itself a nest in the branches of tall trees of
almost any kind*, or among ivy and other climbing plants,
seldom, however, choosing a spot that is far from an inhabited
house. In such cases—and they must be accounted its
natural mode of nidification—the structure is very large,
more than a yard in circumference, and covered with a dome.
of the name to f ‘ Phip ”, and the last applies it throughout to a female. Shake-
spear (King John, i. 1) makes Gurney answer the younger Faulconbridge “ Good
leave, good Philip ” ; to which the latter rejoins “ Philip ? sparrow ! ” ; and Sir
Philip Sidney (Astrophel, s. 83) has a sonnet to a Sparrow, beginning “ Good
brother Philip”, and ending “ Leave that Sir Phip, lest offe your necke be
wroong.” The expression was also known in Britanny and is duly noted in
Le Gonidec’s Breton Dictionary (p. 316). See further Nares’s ‘ Glossary ’
(pp. 374, 375) and Mr. Harting’s ‘Ornithology of Shakespeare’ (p. 145).
* Even the “ Puzzle-monkey ” (Araucaria imbricata) from the Chilian Andes,
now so generally grown in our gardens and pleasure-grounds, is resorted to for
this purpose.
The whole of its outworks are composed of straw, hay or
dry grass, often intermingled with such shreds of manufactured
stuffs as may be in the way, while the interior is
profusely lined with feathers, and access thereto is gained by
a hole left in the side. When, from the locality selected,
the dome and outworks are not required, the amount of
vegetable matter used is much less, and when a very small
cavity is occupied perhaps only two or three straws may be
found among the feathers which seem indispensable. Indeed
so great is the bird’s fondness for warmth that abundance of
feathers are used to line even a nest in the inner side of the
thick thatch of a barn, and it has been seen collecting them
in winter and carrying them to the hole in which it often
roosts in the company of its fellows. The first batch of
eggs usually consists of five or six, and two other sets are
frequently produced in the season. They are greenish-
white, blotched, spotted, streaked or suffused with ash-colour
and dusky brown, varying considerably in the quantity of
this secondary colouring matter : their length is from *95 to
•82, their breadth from *66 to *64, hut an exceptionally small
egg will measure *75 by '55 in.
Occasionally the Sparrow plays the invader’s part and
seizes on the mud-built nest of the House-Martin, which
after vain show of resistance, has to yield possession to the
intruder, though cases are recorded in which the evicted owners
are said to have revenged'themselves by walling-up their enemy
alive, and leaving him to die—a prisoner in the domicile he
has violated* This act of aggression is perhaps the only
charge against the Sparrow that can be maintained in an
* The story is a very old one, but though instances of Sparrows turning out
Martins occur every year, evidence of the revenge said to be taken by the latter
upon the former is most unsatisfactory. I t is generally offered without even the
slight corroboration that would be afforded by information as to time, place or
observer—and the last, from the language used, would seldom seem to have been
a naturalist. Most of the instances, even in modern times, rest admittedly on
second-hand reports, as those given by Jesse (Gleanings, ser. 2, pp. 99, 100) and
Macgillivray (Br. B. iii. pp. 591, 592). The best authenticated perhaps is
that for which M. de Tarragon personally vouches (Rev. Zool. 1843, p. 324),
but this witness speaks of the aggressor being a “ moineau fnquet ” i.e. a Tree-
Sparrow, and this fact casts a shade of suspicion on his evidence.