rant of the fact that there are such things as
wind and storm. Hence her frail structure is more frequently dislodged
from the trees than that of any other bird.

Recently, after a day of violent northwest wind, I found a wrecked
robin's nest and eggs upon the lawn under a maple--not a frequent
spectacle. The robin's firm masonry is usually proof against wind and
rain, but in this case the nest was composed almost entirely of dry
grass; there was hardly a trace of mud in it, hence it was flexible and
yielding, and had no grip of the branches. It was evidently the second
nest of the pair this season, and the second nest in summer of any
species of bird is frailer and more of a makeshift than the first nest
in spring. Comparatively few of our birds attempt to bring off a second
brood unless the first attempt has been defeated, but the robin is sure
to bring off two, and may bring off three. But the robin is a hustler,
probably the most enterprising of all our birds. I recall a mother robin
that, in late June, repaired a nest in a climbing rosebush which her
first brood had vacated only a week before. A brood of wood thrushes
which left their nest about the same time was still being fed by their
parents about the place.

The song sparrow, the social sparrow, the phoebe, the bluebird, all
build a second nest. The first brood of the bluebird will be looked
after by the father in some near-by grove or orchard, while the mother
starts a new family in the old nest. If all goes well with them, those
two bluebird families will unite and keep together in a loose flock till
they migrate in the fall.

So many of our birds nest about our houses and lawns and gardens and
along our highways, that at first sight it seems as if they must be
drawn there by a sense of greater security for their eggs and young. The
robin has become almost a domestic institution. It is rarely that one
finds a robin's nest very far from a human habitation. One spring there
were four robins' nests on my house and outbuildings--in the vines, on
window-sills, or other coigns of vantage. There were at the same time at
least fifteen robins' nests on my lot of sixteen acres, and I am quite
certain that I have not seen all there were. They were in sheds and
apple-trees and spruces and cedars, in the ends of piles of grape-posts,
in rosebushes, in the summer-house, and on the porch. We did not expect
to get one of the early cherries, and might count ourselves lucky