SPARROW WHO STOLE A NEST

Evening Star, Issue 21784, 28 July 1934, Page 5

SPARROW WHO STOLE A NEST

She was a cheeky little grey sparrow, very pretty, but, oh. so lazy. She did hot mind plucking the ripe cherries, but as for seed-hunting or nest-building, she hated it. So when the little cock-sparraw asked her to marry him, she said “ Yes ” in a minute.

How nice it would be to stay at home warm and comfortable, while her little husband searched the bare fields to find seeds and grubs for breakfast. They had been married for about a week when Mr Sparrow said to his wile: “ My dear, don’t you think it’s about time we began to build a nest? I know of such a cosy little corner behind the water, pipe.’’ As they liew together to the roof of the house, Mrs Sparrow did not say much, but she thought a gieat deal, and she certainly did not intend to do any building. “ Now, my love,” said the little cock-sparrow, “ you collect the feathers while 1 go and find the hay.” So saying, he fluttered away Mrs Sparrow sunned herself and began to look about her. Then she hopped on-to the water trough, cocked her head on one side, and looked underneath. What she saw there pleased her. A dear, warm little house, tucked snugly away in a corner, and quite empty. , “Just what we want, she cried, “an empty house,” and she hopped inside . , ~ , She knew quite well that the house belonged to Mr and Mrs Martin. She also knew that although they flew away to the hot countries for the winter, they always came back to their own home to lay their eggs and bring up their babies. Still, when the little cock-sparrow came back, there was his little wife dozing in the House-Martin’s uest._ “ Oh, my dear, come out,” he cried. “ Mrs Martin will soon be back and wanting her nest.” Mrs Sparrow twittered sleepily, but otherwise took no notice, “My dear, ho said, “do come and look at the beautiful fresh hay that 1 have found. Still she took no notice. Now, if you had looked into the nest in a few days’ time you would have seen the little sparrow still nestling there, but no longer alone. Beneath her were five clear little speckled eggs. And, oh! she was so happy that she had no time to be lazy now. One day, when Mr Sparrow was far away down the back garden looking for caterpillars, his wife heard a sudden whirr of wings about her head. She guessed at once what had happened. The Martins had come back. Little Mrs Martin was . nous when she saw a stranger in her home. With open beak, she flew straight for the sparrow. But alas! what chance bad she with her little soft beak, only good for matching juicy flies, against an angrv mother sparrow with a beak hard enough to crack the stoniest seeds? She fluttered miserably away, with a nasty gash in her pretty head. She was so upset that she did not see her mate, and flew right into him. “ Whatever is the matter, my dear?” said he, and when she told him and he saw her poor pecked bead, he grew so angry that be seemed twice as big as he really was. “ The wicked, lazy bird, said he. “ Never mind, my love, wait here for me,” and away he Hew. The sparrow, up in the nest, sat snug and tight on her speckled eggs. She was not afraid of an angry Martin, and her husband would soon be home. But when she saw a whole flock of them flying directly towards her, she became frightened and screamed for her little cock-sparrow. The Martins, fathers, mothers, uncles, brothers, cousins, liew straight for the nest, each one bearing in its beak a lump of moist clay. Now the nest, which was built of clay, was dapped firmly against the wall, and the only way in was a space just big enough for a small bird to pass through. As each martin reached the nest, he added a lump of day to the rim. The sparrow shrieked and pecked. She knew now what they intended to do. But for one tiny morsel that she was able to break away, they pressed a dozen more on. Gradually the hole became smaller and smaller.

One martin had fallen, pecked to death, but the poor sparrow was getting weaker. Yet never for a moment did she think of leaving, her eggs and saving herself by flight. All her friends had flown off. for who would help a bird so lazy that she would not even build her own nest?

The hole grew smaller and smaller, and still the martins kept returning with more and more clay, but the little cook-sparrow was still far away, so what was the good of shrieking, even though one was being buried alive? When tho little cock-sparrow returned, all was quiet. Tie looked at tho wal!ed-np nest, at the damp clay, and at the dead martin on the ledge be-

neath. Then he flew mournfully away to find another mate and begin all over again. And when, a year later, the house was painted, and the nests were all broken down, the faithful but lazy mother sparrow was found in the walled-up nest, still sitting patiently on her precious eggs.