white
arsenic to fifteen parts of corn-meal is the usual recipe. It is illegal,
as you doubtless know, but it has the advantage of acting slowly. Of
course, if we _saw_ a friend of ours writhing about in the feeding-ground,
we should give that feeding-ground a wide berth."

"I see," said I; "but what about the entrance being plastered up?"

"It is never quite plastered up," said he; "and even if it was, a healthy,
able-bodied sparrow could knock the whole thing to pieces with two pecks.
No; when there are any disputes as to proprietorship between sparrows and
martins, the martins have a trick of waiting till the sparrow is out, and
then narrowing down the entrance so that the sparrow will have a job to
get in decent nest material. When a live sparrow is in possession, he very
soon lets callers know it. The martins, in these cases, miss their usual
greeting, and probably conclude that the sparrow is away, whereas he is
really dead inside. That's just about the whole truth of the matter."

"But why on earth," I protested, "can't you build a proper nest for
yourself?"

"I don't know why it is," said he, "but the mere thought of a martin makes
a sparrow feel bad inside. Why does a dog naturally go for a cat? One
thing is quite certain, however. We both fancy human dwellings, and, if we
left the martins altogether alone, they would have all the best places in
no time. Now, that wouldn't be fair at all. I appeal to you as a fellow
Briton. We are British born and bred. We stay with you all the year round.
The martin only comes to look you up in the fine weather. Then he puts on
his showy foreign manners, and you say, 'How charming! so different to
those dirty, vulgar sparrows!' but, as soon as the weather breaks, off he
goes. Now, a hard winter is no fun for the sparrows. We are glad of any
shelter we can get, and the martins' deserted nests come in very handy.
Not only do we use them, but we keep them from falling to pieces, line
them with feathers, and make them into snug winter quarters. Back comes
the martin in the spring. 'Dear me!' he says, 'most gratifying, I am sure.
So kind of you to act as caretaker. Why, I declare, the old place looks
better than when I left. Of course, you won't mind my coming in at once.
I've got to make my family arrangements for the season.' 'Not quite,' says
the sparrow. 'If it hadn't been for me, this nest would have been down in
the last gale. I've put money into this nest, and you can jol