The American Boy's Handy Book/Chapter 18

As regular as the seasons, is the flight of our feathered summer visitors; and their wonderful little nests can be found, by those who choose to look for them, in all manner of situations—in the grass, in the shrubs, in the trees, on the barren moor, on the face of the rocky cliff, in the sand banks, high up in the church steeple, under the low, overhanging eaves of the farmhouse or among the rafters of the hay-loft. Even the very chimneys of the dwellings are invaded by birds in search of a safe retreat where they can rear their little families undisturbed. Professor Rennie, in speaking of the apparent mechanical knowledge displayed by birds in the construction of their nests, says: "This work is the business of their lives—the duty which calls forth that wonderful ingenuity which no experience can teach and which no human skill can rival. The infinite variety of modes in which nests of birds are constructed, and the exquisite adaptation of the nests to the peculiar habits of the individual, offer a subject of almost exhaustless interest." I trust not one of my readers belong to that class of boys who wantonly destroy and pillage birds' nests, for which offence against good taste and good sense it is hard to find language strong enough to use in condemnation. Nor is it proper to start a collection of birds' eggs as the fancy seizes you, to amuse yourself for a time, afterward allowing the eggs to become broken and forgotten. If you really wish to make a collection of eggs for the purpose of study, there is no harm in taking a ​few nests and eggs for your cabinet. There are clauses in the game laws of most, if not all, of the States, which grant exceptional privileges to collectors for scientific purposes.

Eggs should be "blown," or emptied of their contents, as soon as collected, the empty shells being much less liable to break than the unblown egg. To blow eggs you should have an egg-drill and blow-pipe, but if such instruments are out of your reach a pin will answer for a drill and your lips for the blow-pipe. Make a very small hole in each end of the egg, and taking it gently between the thumb and forefinger, place one hole to the lips; then blow, not too hard, but steadily, until the contents come out of the hole at the other end.

The use of the blow-pipe and drill not only simplifies the operation and lessens the chances of breaking the eggs, but it also makes much neater specimens. Hold the egg firmly, but gently, with its ends between the thumb and forefinger of the left hand. Apply the point of the drill to the middle of one side, and, by imparting a twirling motion to the instrument, drill a hole in the egg-shell, filing away the shell gradually until the opening is large enough to admit the end of the blow-pipe, which should fit in the hole loosely, so that when the egg is "blown" the contents of the shell may escape around the end of the pipe. Hold the egg in the left hand, with the hole downward; insert the small end of the blow-pipe into the hole just drilled. It is often a good plan to force water into the shell through the blow-pipe, and after all the contents have been ejected to thoroughly rinse out the shell.

The drying is an important part of the proceeding; for this purpose the egg is usually placed in sand, bran or meal. Some authorities claim that this is wrong, as the substances are apt to cake around the hole, where they become damp from the moisture absorbed. I have often found it difficult to remove the caked meal without injuring the shell. A recent writer ​suggests setting the eggs, hole downward, upon a piece of blotting-paper or a soft cloth. The paper or cloth not only absorbs the moisture without sticking to the shell, but, being soft and yielding, the eggs may be rolled about with no fear of breaking, and they may be dried in this manner thoroughly, without rubbing off the color or destroying the "bloom" peculiar to nicely preserved specimens.

A cabinet of eggs is not only an interesting object, but if the owner has collected them himself, he must necessarily acquire an amount of scientific knowledge that will not only at once make him an authority upon ornithology, even among learned men, but at the same time put him ahead of all the boys in wood-craft.

Eggs may be kept in boxes filled with bran or cotton, or they may be gummed on cards and the name of the bird and date of the collection written underneath; but probably the best way is to keep them in a chest of shallow drawers made for the purpose.

As soon as an egg is collected, number it with a lead pencil, and under a duplicate figure in a note-book write the number of eggs that were in the nest, the date of the collection, name or supposed name of the bird, with any and all other remarks of interest.

A collection of nests makes an ornamental and interesting addition to a cabinet, and some very curious nests may be found. The two-story nest of the summer yellowbird is always an addition, especially if both compartments contain eggs.

The summer yellowbirds, though confiding little creatures, are not readily duped or imposed upon. Their instinct is sufficiently near reason for them to detect the difference between their own little fragile, prettily marked, greenish-colored eggs and the great dark-colored ones the vagabond cow blackbird has surreptitiously smuggled into the cosey nest. The domestic ​little couple cling to the spot selected for their house and will not leave it; neither will they hatch the obnoxious eggs, which they are apparently unable to throw out; but the difficulty is soon surmounted, and so are the gratuitous eggs, for the yellowbirds proceed at once to cover up the cow blackbird's eggs, constructing a new nest on top of the old one, building a second story to their house.

Last summer Mr. Lang Gibson brought me one of these two-story nests which he found at Flushing, L. I.; the lower nest contained two cow blackbird's eggs, and the upper one three eggs of the summer yellowbird. Gibson watched the construction of the nest. Visiting it again after it was finished, he discovered the egg of a cow blackbird. Next day two of these eggs occupied the nest. Some time afterward, to his surprise, he found the nest contained three eggs of the yellowbird and no signs of the existence of those deposited by the blackbird, but the nest had the appearance of being much taller than at first, and an examination disclosed it to be a two-story nest, the lower compartment containing two cow-birds' eggs, and the upper part three yellowbirds' eggs. Since writing the above, the same young collector presented me with another double nest. This time both nests were inhabited and contained eggs; the lower story is a meadow wren's nest with an entrance on one side, and the upper one is the nest of the red-winged or swamp blackbird. The eggs in both compartments were warm when discovered, which proves that they were fresh and that the old birds had not long been absent.

Nests made of woollen fibres must be dusted with fine tobacco, snuff, or camphor, to keep the moths out. Nests made of sticks, straws, etc., will not be attacked by insects, and need no preparation to preserve them.