In Australia there is a bird—the Megapodius—that builds for its family an enormous dwelling. It is not a large bird, being about the size of our partridge, but it seems to have very lofty ideas. If a man built a house in the same proportion to his size, as that of this bird is to its size, his house would be twice as large as the Great Pyramid of Egypt. It would be very inconvenient to have such residences as these, and they would be very difficult to keep clean, to say nothing of the great expense of building them. A man would have to call in the aid of hundreds of workmen, and pay them well, and years would be required to complete such a mansion, and a great many different instruments would be called into use. Whereas two of these birds will build their huge dwelling in a few weeks, with no tools but their own beaks and claws, and with no expense whatever. The Megapodius does not believe in gay clothes, and is always dressed in plain and sombre brown. It is an intelligent, patient, industrious, persevering little creature, as you will see from the way it constructs its nest. It begins by gathering together a mass of leaves, branches, and plants. With these it spreads out on the ground, in the place it has selected for its nest, a thick bed of a circular form. Upon this it heaps up earth and stones, and packs them well together, continuing to labor perseveringly until it raises a mound from eight to fourteen feet high. Some of these mounds measure a hundred and fifty feet round the base, and as much as twenty-four feet up the slope. A circular opening is left in the center of this mound, and extends from the top to the ground. [Illustration: NEST OF THE MEGAPODIUS.] In this opening herbs and leaves are heaped up; and, on this the Megapodius places its eggs, eight in number, arranged in a circle, at equal distances from each other, with the points downward. After the female has performed this task of arranging the eggs, both of the parent birds leave the nest, for they are of no use whatever to the young birds after they are hatched. So you see this great labor, in which they have shown so much skill is not for themselves, but for their children. The leaves and herbs, enclosed in this great mass of compact earth, become so heated after a time that fermentation commences, and this heat hatches the eggs. How does the Megapodius know this? And how does it know what plants will produce poisonous vapors, so that it never brings these to its nest?