the ground, as bank swallows, kingfishers, etc., it is a necessity.
The accumulation of the excrement in the nest would prove most fatal
to the young.

But even among birds that neither bore nor mine, but which build a
shallow nest on the branch of a tree or upon the ground, as the robin,
the finches, the buntings, etc., the ordure of the young is removed to
a distance by the parent bird. When the robin is seen going away from
its brood with a slow, heavy flight, entirely different from its
manner a moment before on approaching the nest with a cherry or worm,
it is certain to be engaged in this office. One may observe the social
sparrow, when feeding its young, pause a moment after the worm has
been given, and hop around on the brink of the nest, observing the
movements within.

The instinct of cleanliness no doubt prompts the action in all cases,
though the disposition to secrecy or concealment may not be unmixed
with it.

The swallows form an exception to the rule, the excrement being voided
by the young over the brink of the nest. They form an exception, also,
to the rule of secrecy, aiming not so much to conceal the nest as to
render it inaccessible.

Other exceptions are the pigeons, hawks, and water-fowls.

But to return. Having a good chance to note the color and markings of
the woodpeckers as they passed in and out at the opening of the nest,
I saw that Audubon had made a mistake in figuring or describing the
female of this species with the red spot upon the head. I have seen a