Chapter 11

THE RING OUZEL. (Turdus torquatus.)

The Ring Ouzeldiffers from the fieldfare and redwing, to which it is nearly allied, in being a summer visitor to the British islands, instead of a winter one. It is found only in the wildest and most mountainous districts; particularly among the Welsh mountains and on Dartmoor, in Devonshire, where it has been known to breed.

THE MOCKING BIRD, (Turdus polyglottus,)THE MOCKING BIRD, (Turdus polyglottus,)

Whichis also a species, is found in both North and South America, and in the West Indian islands. He has a beautiful song, which he varies by imitating the notes of almost all other birds, so that a person passing by his haunt is regaled with a complete ornithological concert, all by a single performer. Unfortunately, the Mocking Bird’s taste is not equal to his musical powers. His talent for imitation is so great that he mimics every sound he hears, and as he introduces all his imitations freely into his songs, he often interrupts the most delightful melody with the scream of a hawk, the bark of a dog, the squalling of a cat, or similar discordant noises.

THE ROBIN, OR REDBREAST.(Erythacus rubecula.)

“The Redbreast oft, at evening hours,Shall kindly lend his little aid,With hoary moss, and gathering flowers,To deck the ground where thou art laid.”Collins.

The Redbreast, orRobin, as he is popularly called, seems always to have enjoyed the protection of man, more than any other bird. The prettiness of his shape, the beauty of his plumage, the quickness of his motions, his familiarity with us in winter, and, above all, the melody and sweetness of his voice, claim our admiration, and have insured him that security which he enjoys among us; though the aid of fable has also been called in, to guard him from the assaults of thoughtless boys.

“Little bird with bosom red,Welcome to my humble shed!Courtly domes of high degreeHave no room for thee and me;Pride and pleasure’s fickle throngNothing mind an idle song.Daily near my table steal,While I pick my scanty meal;Doubt not, little though there be,But I’ll cast a crumb for thee;Well rewarded if I spyPleasure in thy glancing eye;And see thee, when thou’st eat thy fill,Plume thy breast, and wipe thy bill.”Langhorne.

In the winter season, impelled by the potent stimulus of hunger, the Redbreast frequents our barns, gardens, and houses, and often alights, on a sudden, on the rustic floor; where, with his broad eye incessantly open, and looking askew upon the company, he picks up eagerly the crumbs of bread that fall from the table, and then flies off to the neighbouring bush, where, by his warbling strains, he expresses his gratitude for the liberty he has been allowed. He is found in most parts of Europe, but nowhere so commonly as in Great Britain. His bill is dusky; his forehead, chin, throat, and breast are of a deep orange-colour, inclining to vermilion; the back of his head, neck, back, and tail are of a pale olive-brown colour; the wings are somewhat darker, the edges inclining to yellow; the legs and feet are the colour of the bill. The female generally builds her nest in the crevice of some mossy bank, near places which human beings frequent, or in some part of a human dwelling. Robins have been known to build in a sawpit where men worked every day, and in various other equally extraordinary places. When the Crystal Palace at Sydenham was being fitted up, several Robins built their nests in holes of the large roots used to raise the flower beds within the building. So little fear did they exhibit that their bright eyes might be seen glancing from holes close to which men were passing every moment. The elegant poet of The Seasons gives us a very exact and animated description of this bird in the following lines:

“—— —— Half afraid, he firstAgainst the window beats: then, brisk alightsOn the warm hearth; then, hopping on the floor,Eyes all the smiling family askance,And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is,Till, more familiar grown, the table-crumbsAttract his slender feet.”

An old Latin proverb tells us that two Robin Redbreastswill not feed on the same tree; it is certain that the Redbreast is a most pugnacious bird, and that he does not live in much harmony and friendship with those of his own kind and sex. The male may be known from the female by the colour of his legs, which are blacker.

The Redbreast attends the gardener when digging his borders; and will, with great familiarity and tameness, pick out the worms almost close to his spade.

THE NIGHTINGALE. (Philomela luscinia.)

“Sweet bird, that shunn’st the noise of folly,Most musical, most melancholy!Thee, chantress, oft, the woods among,I woo to hear thy even song.”Milton.

The Nightingalehas little to boast of in respect to plumage, which is of a pale tawny colour on the head and back, dashed with a slight shade of olive; the breast and upper part of the belly incline to a grayish tint, and the lower part of the belly is almost white; the exterior web of the quill feathers is of a reddish brown; the tail of a dull red; the legs and feet ash-coloured; the irides hazel; and the eyes large, bright, and staring. But it is hardly possible to give an idea of the extraordinary power which this small bird possesses in its throat, as to the extension of sound, sweetness of tone, and versatility of notes.Its song is composed of several musical passages, each of which does not continue more than the third part of a minute; but they are so varied, the passing from one tone to another is so fanciful and so rapid, and the melody so sweet and so mellow, that the most consummate musician is pleasingly led to a deep sense of admiration on hearing it. Sometimes, joyful and merry, it runs down the diapason with the velocity of lightning, touching the treble and the base nearly at the same instant; at other times, mournful and plaintive, the unfortunatePhilomeladraws heavily her lengthened notes, and breathes a delightful melancholy around. These have the appearance of sorrowful sighs; the other modulations resemble the laughter of the happy. Solitary on the twig of a small tree, and cautiously at a certain distance from the nest, where the pledges of his love are treasured under the fostering breast of his mate, the male fills constantly the silent woods with his harmonious strains, and during the whole night entertains and repays his female for the irksome duties of incubation. The Nightingale not only sings at intervals during the day, but waits till the blackbird and the thrush have uttered their evening call, even till the stock and ringdoves have, by their soft murmurings, lulled each other to rest, and then pours forth his full tide of melody:

“—— —— Listening Philomela deignsTo let them joy, and purposes, in thoughtElate, to make her night excel their day.”Thomson.

It is a great subject of astonishment that so small a bird should be endowed with such potent lungs. If the evening is calm, it is supposed that its song may be heard above half-a-mile. This bird, the ornament and charm of our spring and early summer evenings, as it arrives in April, and continues singing till June, disappears on a sudden about September or October, when it leaves us to pass the winter in the North of Africa and Syria. Its visits to this country are limited to certain counties, mostly in the south and east; as, though it isplentiful in the neighbourhood of London, and along the south coast in Sussex, Hampshire, and Dorsetshire, it is not found in either Cornwall or Wales. As soon as the young are hatched, the song of the male bird ceases, and he only utters a harsh croak, by way of giving alarm when any one approaches the nest. Nightingales are sometimes reared up, and doomed to the prison of a cage; in this state they sing ten months in the year, though in their wild life they sing only as many weeks. Bingley says that a caged Nightingale sings much more sweetly than those which we hear abroad in the spring.

The Nightingale is the most celebrated of all the feathered race for its song. The poets have in all ages made it the theme of their verses; some of these we cannot resist giving:

“The Nightingale, as soon as April bringethUnto her rested sense a perfect waking,Which late bare earth, proud of new clothing, springeth,Sings out her woes——.”Sir Philip Sidney.

“—— —— —— Beast and bird,They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,Were slunk; all but the wakeful Nightingale;She all night long her amorous descant sung.”Milton.

“And in the violet-embroidered vale,Where the lovelorn NightingaleNightly to thee her sad song mourneth well.”Milton.

“O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy sprayWarblest at eve, when all the woods are still,Thou with fresh hope the lover’s heart dost fill,While the jolly hours lead on propitious May,Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill,Portend success in love. Oh, if Jove’s willHave linked that amorous power to thy soft lay,Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hateForetell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh;As thou from year to year hast sung too lateFor my relief, yet hadst no reason why:Whether the muse, or love, call thee his mate,Both them I serve, and of their train am I.”Milton.“—— —— Now is the pleasant time,The cool, the silent, save where silence yields,To the night-warbling bird, that, now awake,Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song.”Milton.

“—— —— Now is the pleasant time,The cool, the silent, save where silence yields,To the night-warbling bird, that, now awake,Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song.”Milton.

“How all things listen while thy muse complains,Such silence waits on Philomela’s strains,In some still evening, when the whispering breezePants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees.”Pope.

“There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream,And the Nightingale sings round it all the year long;In the days of my childhood, ’t was like a sweet dreamTo sit in the roses, and hear the bird’s song.“That bower and its music I never forget,But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year,I think, Is the Nightingale singing there yet?Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer?”Moore.

“That bower and its music I never forget,But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year,I think, Is the Nightingale singing there yet?Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer?”Moore.

THE BLACK-CAP, (Curruca atricapilla,)

Isa very small warbler, not weighing above half-an-ounce. The top of the head is black, whence he takes his name; the neck ash-coloured, the back an ashy-brown, the wings of a dusky colour, the tail nearly the same; the nether part of the neck, throat, and upper part of the breast of a pale ash colour; the lower part of the belly white.

The Black-cap visits us about the middle of April, and retires in September; it frequents gardens, and builds its nest near the ground. The female lays fiveeggs of a pale reddish-brown, sprinkled with spots of a darker colour. This bird sings sweetly, and so like the nightingale, that in Norfolk it is called the mock nightingale. White observes, that it has usually a full, sweet, deep, loud, and wild pipe, yet the strain is of short continuance, and its motions desultory; but when it sits calmly, and earnestly engages in song, it pours forth very sweet but inward melody; and expresses a great variety of modulations, superior perhaps to any of our warblers, the nightingale excepted. While it sings, its throat is greatly distended.

THE WREN. (Troglodytes vulgaris.)

“Fast by my couch, congenial guest,The Wren has wove her mossy nest;From busy scenes and brighter skiesTo lurk with innocence she flies;Her hopes in safe repose to dwell,Nor aught suspects the sylvan cell.”T. Warton.

The Wrenis a very small bird; but, as if nature had intended to compensate the want of size and bulk in the individuals, by multiplying them to a greater extent, this little bird is one of the most prolific of the feathered tribe, its nest containing often upwards of eighteen eggs, of a whitish colour, and not much bigger than a pea. The male and female enter by a hole contrived in the middle of the nest, and which, by its situation and size, is accessible only to themselves. The Wren weighs no more than three drachms. Its notes are very sweet, and rival those of the robin redbreast, in the middle of winter, when the coldness of the weather has condemnedthe other songsters to silence. Like the redbreast, it frequently approaches the habitation of man, enlivening the rustic garden with its song during the greater part of the year. It begins to make a nest early in the spring, but frequently deserts it before it is lined, and searches for a more secure place. The Wren does not, as is usual with most other birds, begin to build the bottom of the nest first. When against a tree, its primary operation is to trace upon the bark the outline, and thus to fasten it with equal strength to all parts. It then, in succession, closes the sides and top, leaving only a small hole for entrance.

THE WILLOW WREN. (Sylvia trochilus.)

The Willow Wrenis somewhat larger than the common Wren. The upper parts of the body are of a pale olive-green;the under parts are pale yellow, and a streak of yellow passes over the eyes. The wings and tail are brown, edged with yellowish green; and the legs are inclined to yellow. This bird is migratory, visiting us usually about the middle of April, and taking its departure towards the end of September. The female constructs her nest in holes at the roots of trees, in hollows of dry banks, and other similar places. It is round, and not unlike the nest of the Wren. The eggs are dusky white, marked with reddish spots, and are five in number. A Willow Wren had built in a bank of one of the fields of Mr. White, near Selborne. This bird, a friend and himself observed as she sat in her nest, but were particularly careful not to disturb her, though she eyed them with some degree of jealousy. Some days afterwards, as they passed the same way, they were desirous of remarking how the brood went on; but no nest could be found, till Mr. White happened to take up a large bundle of long green moss, which had been thrown, as it were, carelessly over the nest, in order to mislead the eye of any impertinent intruder.

Mr. White distinguished no fewer than three varieties of the Willow Wren. “I have now,” he writes, “past dispute, made out three distinct species of the Willow Wrens, which constantly and invariably use distinct notes.” “I have specimens of the three sorts now lying before me, and can discern that there are three gradations of sizes, and that the least has black legs, and the other two, flesh-coloured ones. The yellowest bird is considerably the largest, and has its quill feathers and secondary feathers tipped with white, which the others have not. The last haunts only the tops of trees and high beechen woods, and makes a sibilous grasshopper-like noise, now and then, at short intervals, shivering a little with its wings when it sings.” Mr. Markwich, however, declared that he was totally unable to discover more than one species.

THE GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN, (Regulus cristatus,)

Isthe smallest of British birds, measuring only three inches and a half in length. It is of an olive colour, with a beautiful crest of golden yellow feathers on its head. This charming little bird is generally found in fir woods; it feeds on insects, and has a soft and pleasing song.

THE GREY WATER WAGTAIL. (Motacilla boarula.)

Thereis not a brook purling along two flowery banks, not a rivulet winding through the green meadow, which is not frequented by this beautifully coloured and elegantly shaped little creature. We even see them in the streets of country towns, following with quick pace the half-drowned fly or moth, which the road-side streamlet carries away. Next to the robin redbreast and the sparrow, they are the boldest in approaching our habitations. The Wagtails are much in motion; seldom perch, and perpetually flirt their long and slender tails, (whence they derive their name,) principally after picking up some food from the ground, as if that tail were a kind of lever, or counterpoise, used to balance the body on the legs. They are observed to frequent, more commonly, those streams where women come to wash their linen; probably not ignorant that the soap, the froth of which floats upon the water, attracts those insects which are most acceptable to them.

PIED WAGTAILS.

Thereare two common species of Wagtails, the Grey kind and the Pied Wagtail. The Grey Wagtail is retiring in its habits, and much slower in its motions; its breast is yellow, and its wings grayish, but the Pied Wagtail, which is a very lively little bird, and seems always in a bustle, is black, softening into ash-colour and white; it is also bold, and will take the food thrown to it with as much confidence as a robin redbreast.

The Yellow Shepherdess (Budytes flava) is another species of Wagtail. The male is olive-green on the back, and yellow on the lower part of the body, but thebreast of the female is nearly white. These birds do not frequent the banks of rivers, but are generally found walking among the grass of meadows, and following sheep. They are summer visitors to England.

White says, that “while the cows are feeding in the moist, low pastures, broods of Wagtails, white and grey, run round them, close up to their noses, and under their very bellies, availing themselves of the flies that settle on their legs, and probably finding worms and larvæ that are roused by the trampling of their feet. Nature is such an economist that the most incongruous animals can avail themselves of each other.”

“Interest makes strange friendships!”

THE SWALLOW. (Hirundo rustica.)

“From the low-roof’d cottage ridgeSee the chattering Swallow spring;Darting through the one-arch’d bridge,Quick she dips her dappled wing.”Cunningham.

Swallowsare easily distinguished from all other birds, not only by their general structure, but by their twitteringnote and mode of flying, or rather darting from place to place.

They appear in Britain in April, and build in some outhouse, or, in part of a human dwelling, where they lay their eggs and hatch their young. About August they disappear, and do not return till the following spring. Swallows kept in a cage moult about Christmas, and seldom live till spring.

There are several species of the Swallow: the general characters of which are a small beak, but large, wide mouth, for the purpose of swallowing flying insects, their natural food; and long forked tail and extensive wings, to enable them to pursue their prey. The common Swallow builds under the eaves of houses, or in chimneys, near their top; it is frequently called the Chimney Swallow from its preference for the last-mentioned rather singular situation; the Martin also builds under eaves, and most commonly against the upper corner or side of our very windows, and seems not afraid at the sight of man, yet it cannot be tamed, or even kept long in a cage. The nature of the Swallow’s nest is worthy of close observation: how the mud is extracted from the sea-shores, rivers, or other watery places; how masoned and formed into a solid building, strong enough to support a whole family, and to face the “pelting storm,” are wonders which ought to raise our mind to Him who bestowed that instinct upon them.

It is related that a pair of Swallows built their nest for two successive years on the handle of a pair of garden shears, that were stuck up against the boards of an outhouse; and, therefore, must have had their nest spoiled whenever the implement was wanted. And what is still more strange, a bird of the same species built its nest on the wings and body of an owl that happened to hang dead and dry from the rafter of a barn, and so loose as to be moved by every gust of wind. This owl, with the nest on its wings, and with eggs in the nest, was taken to the museum of Sir Ashton Leaver as a curiosity. That gentleman, struck with the singularity of the sight, furnished the person who brought it with a large shell, desiring him to fix it just where the owl had hung. The mandid so; and in the following year a pair of Swallows, probably the same, built their nest in the shell and laid eggs.

Modern poets have not been unmindful of the Swallows; and our immortal Shakspeare mentions the Martin, in Macbeth, in the following manner:

“This guest of summer,The temple-haunting Martlet, does approve,By his loved mansionry, that the Heaven’sBreath smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,Buttress, nor coigne of ’vantage, but this birdHath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,The air is delicate.”

“The Swallow,” writes Sir Humphry Davy, “is one of my favourite birds, and a rival of the nightingale, for he cheers my sense of seeing as much as the other does my sense of hearing. He is the glad prophet of the year, the harbinger of the best season—he lives a life of enjoyment amongst the liveliest forms of nature—winter is unknown to him; and he leaves the green meadows of England in autumn for the myrrh and orange groves of Italy, and for the palms of Africa; he has always objects of pursuit, and his success is secure. Even the beings selected for his prey are poetical, beautiful, and transient. The ephemeræ are saved by his means from a slow and lingering death in the evening, and killed in a moment when they have known nothing but pleasure. He is the constant destroyer of insects, the friend of man, and may be regarded as a sacred bird. His instinct, which gives him his appointed season, and teaches him when and where to move, may be regarded as flowing from a divine source; and he belongs to the oracles of nature, which speak the awful and intelligible language of a present Deity.”

The Chimney Swallow is, on the head, neck, back, and rump, of a shining black colour, with purple gloss and sometimes with a blue shade; the throat and neck are of the same colour; the breast and belly are white, with a dash of red. The tail is forked, and consists of twelve feathers.The wings are of the same colour with the back. Swallows feed upon flies and other insects; and generally hunt their prey on the wing:

“Away! away! thou summer bird;For Autumn’s moaning voice is heard,In cadence wild, and deepening swell,Of winter’s stern approach to tell.”

HOUSE MARTIN, OR WINDOW SWALLOW.(Hirundo urbica.)

The Martinis something less than the swallow, with a comparatively large head, and a wide mouth; the colour of the upper parts a bluish black, the rump and all the under parts of the body white, the bill black; the legs covered with short white down.

These birds begin to appear about the middle of April, and for some time pay no attention to the business of nidification, but sport and play about as if to recruit themselves from the fatigue of the journey.

Should the weather prove favourable, it begins to build early in May, placing its nest generally beneath the eavesof a house, often against a perpendicular wall: without any projecting ledge to support any part of the nest, its utmost efforts are necessary to get the first foundation firmly fixed, so as to carry the superstructure safely. On this occasion, it not only clings with its claws, but partly supports itself by strongly inclining its tail against the wall, making that a fulcrum; and thus fixed, it plasters the materials into the face of the brick or stone. But that this work may not, while soft, sink by its own weight, the provident architect has the prudence and forbearance not to proceed too fast; but by building only in the morning, and dedicating the rest of the day to food and amusement, he gives it sufficient time to dry and harden. By this method, in about ten days, the nest is formed, strong, compact, and warm, and perfectly fitted for all the purposes for which it is intended. But nothing is more common than for the house-sparrow, as soon as the shell is finished, to seize on it, eject the owner, and line it according to its own peculiar manner. Sometimes, however, the Martins prove too clever for the sparrow; when the intruder obstinately retained possession of the nest, the Martins have been known to collect from all parts of the neighbourhood, each bringing a pellet of mud, with which the orifice of the nest was soon securely closed, and the unfortunate sparrow was then left to die of starvation. The Martin will return for several seasons to the same nest, where it happens to be well sheltered and secured from the injuries of the weather. They breed the latest of all our swallows, often having unfledged young ones even so late as Michaelmas.

The first hatch consists of five eggs, which are white, inclining to dusky at the thicker end; the second, of three or four; and of a third, of only two or three. While the young birds are confined to the nest the parents feed them, adhering by the claws to the outside; but as soon as they are able to fly they receive their nourishment on the wing, by a quick and almost imperceptible motion.

“Welcome, welcome, feathered stranger,Now the sun bids Nature smile;Safe arrived and free from danger,Welcome to our blooming isle.”Franklin.

THE SWIFT, (Cypselus apus,)

Whichis sometimes called the Black Martin, arrives in England later, and takes its departure earlier than any of our swallows. The Swift is the largest of the swallow tribe, and the most rapid in its flight. Its nest, which is generally built in the crevices of old towers and steeples, is constructed of dried grass, feathers, thread, and similar materials, glued together by a sort of spittle, with which the bird is provided. The bird collects them whilst on the wing, picking them up with great dexterity. They seldom alight upon the ground, and if by accident they fall upon a level surface, they recover themselves with difficulty, owing to the shortness of their legs, and the length of their wings. During the heat of the day they remain within their holes, and at morning and evening sally out in quest of food. They may then be seen in flocks, whirling round some lofty edifice, or describing in mid-air an endless series of circles upon circles. Swifts fly higher, and wheel with bolder wing than the swallows, with whom they never intermingle.

THE GOATSUCKER. (Caprimulgus Europæus.)

Thiscurious bird, called also the Nightjar, and the Fern Owl, comes to this country from Africa about the middle of May and usually leaves by the end of August. These birds are generally found in low bushes, or amongst tufts of large ferns, and generally fly at night: hence their name of Fern Owl. The beak is furnished with bristles, and the middle toe of each foot has a claw toothed like a comb. The female lays her eggs upon the ground, without any nest, and lays only two. The name of Goatsucker originated in an absurd idea that this bird sucked the goat’s milk, from its habit of lying on the ground near cows or she goats, and catching the flies that torment them by fixing on their udders. Mr. Waterton, who is certainly the closest observer of nature who ever wrote on Natural History, states, in one of his very interesting works, that he has frequently seen the Goatsuckers catching insects in this manner, and thus proving themselves the best of friends to the animals they are accused of annoying.

THE SKYLARK. (Alauda arvensis.)

“Go, tuneful bird, that gladd’st the skies,To Daphne’s window speed thy way;And there on quivering pinions rise,And there thy vocal art display.”Shenstone.

The Skylarkis distinguished from most other birds by the long spur on the back toe, the earthy colour of his feathers, and by singing as he mounts in the air. These birds generally make their nest in meadows among the high grass, and the tint of their plumage resembles so much that of the ground, that the body of the bird is hardly distinguishable as it runs along.

“The daisied lea he loves, where tufts of grassLuxuriant crown the ridge: there, with his mate,He founds their lonely house, of withered herbs,And coarsest spear-grass; next the inner work,With finer, and still finer fibres lays,Rounding it curious with his speckled breast.”Grahame.

Larks breed twice a year, in May and July, rearing their young in a short space of time. They are caught in great quantities in winter, and are considered choice and delicate food. It is a melancholy observation, that man should feed upon, and indulge his sense of taste with those very birds which have so often delighted his sense of hearing with their songs, when they usher tothe gladdened creation the return of their best friend, the sun. The instinctive warmth of attachment which the female Skylark bears towards her own species, even when not her nestling, is remarkable. “In the month of May,” says Buffon, “a young hen bird was brought to me, which was not able to feed without assistance. I caused her to be reared; and she was hardly fledged, when I received from another place a nest of three or four unfledged larks. She took a strong liking to these newcomers, which were but little younger than herself; she tended them night and day, cherished them beneath her wings, and fed them with her bill. Nothing could interrupt her tender offices. If the young ones were torn from her she flew to them as soon as they were liberated, and would not think of effecting her own escape, which she might have done a hundred times. Her affection grew upon her; she neglected food and drink; she at length required the same support as her adopted offspring, and expired at last, consumed with maternal solicitude. None of the young ones long survived her. They died one after another; so essential were her cares, which were equally tender and judicious.”

The Lark mounts almost perpendicularly, and by successive springs, into the air, where it hovers at a vast height. Its descent is in an oblique direction, unless threatened by some ravenous bird of prey, or attracted by its mate, when it drops to the ground like a stone. On its first leaving the earth, its notes are feeble and interrupted; but, as it rises, they gradually swell to their full tone. As the Lark’s flight is always at sun-rise, there is something in the scenery that renders its song peculiarly delightful: the opening morning, the landscape just gilded by the rays of the returning sun, and the beauty of the surrounding objects, all contribute to heighten our relish for its pleasing melody.

“—— Up springs the Lark,Shrill-voiced and loud, the messenger of morn,Ere yet the shadows fly, he, mounted, singsAmid the dawning clouds, and from their hauntsCalls up the tuneful nations.”Thomson.“Alas! it’s no thy neebor sweet,The bonnie Lark, companion meet!Bending thee ’mang the dewy weet!Wi’ speckled breast,When upward springing, blythe to greetThe purpling east.”Burns.

“Alas! it’s no thy neebor sweet,The bonnie Lark, companion meet!Bending thee ’mang the dewy weet!Wi’ speckled breast,When upward springing, blythe to greetThe purpling east.”Burns.

“Early, cheerful, mounting Lark,Light’s gentle usher, morning’s clerk,In merry notes delighting.”Sir John Davis.

THE WOODLARK. (Alauda arborea.)

Thisspecies is smaller than the skylark, and its voice deeper; it has also a circle of white feathers encompassing the head, from eye to eye, like a crown or wreath, and the utmost feather of the wing is much shorter than the second, whereas in the common lark they are nearly equal. This bird sometimes emulates the nightingale; for which, when pouring forth his sweet melody in the grove, during a silent night, he is often mistaken. These birds sit and perch upon trees, unlike the common lark, which always keeps to the ground. They build their nest at the foot of a bush, near the bottom of a hedge, or in high dry grass. The number of their eggs is about four, of a pale bloom colour, beautifully mottled, and clouded with red and yellow. Like the skylark, they assemble in large flocks during frosty weather. Their usual food consists of small beetles, caterpillars, and otherinsects, as well as the seeds of numerous kinds of wild plants.

“Bright o’er the green hills rose the morning ray,The Woodlark’s song resounded on the plain,Fair nature felt the warm embrace of day,And smiled through all her animated reign.”Langbourn.

THE TITMOUSE, OR TOM-TIT. (Parus cæruleus.)THE LONG-TAILED TIT. (Parus caudatus.)

Thecommon Titmouse or Tom-tit is a very small bird, only four inches and a half in length. He has a blue head, with white cheeks and a white stripe over each eye; his back is greenish, his wings and tail blue, and the lower surface of his body yellow. This bird, and all the species related to it, live on insects, as well as on seeds. When kept in a cage, it is really amusing to see with what quickness the Titmouse darts at any fly or moth which comes imprudently within its reach. If this kind of food be deficient, as generally happens in winter, it feeds upon several kinds of seed, and particularly that of the sunflower, which it dexterously holds upright between its claws and strikes powerfully with its sharp little bill, till the black covering splits, and yields its white contents to the persevering bird. Its general food consists of insects,which it seeks in the crevices of the bark of trees, and when thus engaged, clinging in every possible position to the branches, it looks like a very diminutive blue parrot. In winter the Titmouse visits our gardens and orchards, where he is often seen picking the buds of fruit trees to pieces; but in doing this he inflicts little or no injury upon the gardener, his object being the capture of insects which would probably cause far more mischief in the ensuing summer. The nest of the Titmouse is built in the hole of a tree or wall; the female lays usually eight or ten eggs, and when sitting defends her nest with great courage, pecking at the fingers of boys so vigorously that in some parts of the country she is known by the name of Billy Biter. TheLong-tailed Titis also a common bird about hedges, orchards, and plantations. He is an active lively little fellow, and resembles the common Tit in his habits.

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