strange as it may seem, there had never been any mourning doves in the forest until this year, and when a pair came there to live, the people were much excited. they talked about the doves' song, so sweet and sad, and about their soft coats of brown and gray, and they wondered very much what kind of home they would build. would it be a swinging pocket of hairs, strings, and down, like that of the orioles? would it be stout and heavy like the nests of the robins? or would it be a ball of leaves and grasses on the ground, with a tiny doorway in one side, like that of the ovenbird?