Library
of the

University of Toronto

NESTS AND EGGS

FAMILIAR BRITISH BIRDS,

DESCRIBED AND ILLUSTRATED;

WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE

HAUNTS AND HABITS OF THE FEATHERED ARCHITECTS,

AND THEIR TIMES AND MODES OF BUILDING;

BY H. G. ADAMS,

Author of “Favorite Song Birds,” “A Story of the Seasons 8fc.

WITH EIGHT COLOURED PLATES OF EGGS,
CONTAINING FORTY-EIGHT DIFFERENT SPECIES.

LONDON:

GROOMBRIDGE AND SONS, 5, PATERNOSTER ROW.

M DCCC LV.

INTRODUCTION.

To My Young Readeks!

You must not be frightened by two
or three hard names which I am about to place before you; they
are scientific terms, which are frequently used in connection with
the subject of this little book, and which therefore ought to be
understood by all who take pleasure in the study of that partic-
ular branch of Natural History, termed

OOLOGY.

That’s a queer word, is it not? It looks like a word without
a head, and so it is ; the Z is gone, which would make it Zoology ;
this last word means, properly, the Science of Animals, teaching
their nature, properties, classification, etc. ; so that it is but another
term for Natural History. It comes from two Greek words, about
which I need not trouble you now. O-ol-o-gy — that’s the way
it’s pronounced — signifies the science of eggs; it also comes from
the Greek, as does Oolite , of which I shall have to say something
when I come to write, for your instruction, a book about another
ology, which has a Ge before it.

INCUBATION.

Such of you as have seen the Patent Incubator, a machine
like an oven, by which eggs are hatched in large numbers without
the help of the parent birds, will readily understand the meaning
of this term — In-cu-ba-tion : it is derived from the Latin incubatio,
to lie or sit upon. People who eat too much indigestible food,
have frightful dreams, in which they fancy some ugly monster is
sitting and pressing upon their chest, so as almost to prevent them
breathing, and this is called an Incubus, a thing that sits hard
and close, as a bird does upon her eggs.

INTRODUCTION.

iv

EDIFICATION

you will find explained further on, as I do not wish to give you
too much to remember at once. And now let me say a few words
about that beautiful structure, a Bird’s N est, and beg of you never
to take or destroy one idly and wantonly, that is without there
is some really useful end in view. For a mere momentary grati-
fication, you have no right to render useless the labour of a
little bird, and to inflict pain and sorrow on a creature so
calculated to please your eye with its beauty, and delight your
ear with its melodious song. If you are really a student of
Natural History, and desire to form a collection of Nests and Eggs,
I would say nothing against your taking as many specimens of
both as may be necessary for your purpose; or if there is some
sufficiently strong and good reason why the work of a feathered
architect, with its interesting contents, should be destroyed, let it
be done as quickly, and with as little suffering to the young or
parent birds, as may be. When eggs only are required for a
cabinet, if but one or two are taken from a nest, they will not
be missed by the sitting bird. Always remember that the eye of
the Great Creator is upon you , and that He will call you to
account for every act of unnecessary cruelty.

Thus much have I thought it necessary to say about “bird’s-
nesting” — a practice to which boys, especially idle and mischievous
ones, are too much addicted. The following lines by Hurdis, on
a Bird’s Nest, should be read carefully and thoughtfully by all
such, and they would, perhaps, be induced to refrain from destroying
so wonderful a piece of Nature’s architecture: —

“But most of all it wins my admiration,

To view the structure of this little work,

A Bird’s Nest. Mark it well, within, without;
No tool had he that wrought, no knife to cut,
No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert,

No glue to join: his little beak was all,

And yet how neatly finished. What nice hand,
With every implement and means of art,

And twenty years’ experience to boot,

Could make me such another? Fondly then
We boast of excellence, whose noblest skill
Instinctive genius foils.”

X

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vf

■Me,*.-0*

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NESTS AND EGGS

OF

FAMILIAR BRITISH BIRDS.

GOLDEN EAGLE.

BLACK EAGLE. BROWN EAGLE. RING-TAILED EAGLE.

FIGURE 1.

Such are the various names by which this King of Birds is
commonly known, all having reference to the colour of its plu-
mage, which undergoes considerable changes in accordance with
the bird’s age and state of health. The term “golden” is probably
derived from the rich tint of the feathers on the head and nape
of the neck. Of Eagles we have in this country three kinds
— the one above named, the Spotted Eagle, and the Osprey, or
Sea Eagle: neither of them are common birds, but the Golden
is the most so. It is found chiefly in the mountainous districts
of Scotland and Ireland, where it builds its nest amid the
inaccessible cliffs. My young readers will remember that
magnificent description given of this rapacious bird in * the
book of Job: —

“The rock is the place of his habitation.

He abides in the crag, the place of strength.

Thence he pounces upon his prey.

His eyes discern afar off.

Even his young ones drink down blood:

And, wherever is slaughter, there is he.”

The Scriptures contain many other striking allusions to the
Eagle, of whose natural history enough might be told to fill

2

GOLDEN EAGLE.

a book of itself, but our attention must for the present be
directed to its place and method of nidification — there ’s a long
word! try and remember it! Let's turn to the dictionary and
see what it means. Here it is — Nid-i-fi-ca-tion, (five syllables,)
the act of building nests. It is derived, we see, from the Latin
nidificatio , and that comes from nidus , a nest; so you must not
call a man who builds a house a nidificator; only birds, and
some insects and fishes, nidify — men and beasts do not; for
though we have sometimes heard of “a mare’s nest,” yet we
cannot learn that such a thing was ever seen.

But let us now take a peep into the eyrie of an Eagle —
another curious word that; it is sometimes spelled eyry, and
means a place where birds of prey build and hatch their young;
thus Milton says —

“The Eagle and the Stork
On cliffs and cedar tops their eyries build.”

This word has a Greek root, or derivative, signifying egg, so
that, you see, it is very appropriate. It is desirable that the
meaning of these terms should be borne in mind, as I may
often have occasion to use them.

We will now suppose ourselves standing upon a narrow ledge
of rock, hundreds of feet above the rugged glen, through which
rushes a foaming torrent, whose hoarse voice comes upon our
ears like a faint whisper; far above us rise the mountain peaks,
gleaming white in the sunshine; and all around is sky, and
rolling mist, and awful silence. Hark to that rapid beat of
wings! scarce heard at first, it grows each moment more and
more distinct. See yonder speck floating up from the valley!
Is it a bird? yes, and a large bird — an Eagle — a kingly Eagle!
measuring, it may be, nine feet or more from tip to tip of the
outspread pinions. It comes this way, and now from behind
yonder projecting rock we hear shrill cries and fluttering sounds,
which tell that the young birds are aware of the feast that their
parent is bringing them. If we crouch close behind this detached
mass, that looks ready to fall into the glen below, and peep
through this fissure, we may see the family at their meal; they
will all be there, for, see, the mother bird, who has also been
out hunting for prey, approaches from an opposite direction.
Awhile she hovered over the plain, floating almost motionless

GOLDEN EAGLE.

3

in mid-air; a bare stole timidly out of its covert, to gambol
among the heather on the hill side; her keen eye marked it
in an instant; and “swoop” down she came, straight and swift
as an arrow, and poor puss is borne aloft, writhing and struggling
in the gripe of the fierce bird.

See! there is the nest in this hollow, formed in the face of
the cliff by the projecting stump of a withered tree, around
which some earth has accumulated, and coarse herbage taken root
and flourished. The hollow is lined scantily with a little grass
and sheep’s wool, which has been used by the same pair of
birds on this spot for many succeeding years. Sometimes the
Eagle dispenses with a lining to its nest altogether, and deposits
its two eggs (now and then, but very rarely, three) in the
mere hollow in the rock; sometimes it uses small twigs or rushes,
sea-weed or heather, for the purpose.

The eggs vary in colour, from an almost pure white, to a
light russet brown, which however is not uniform, but is mottled
and spotted: the size is generally about three inches long, by
two and a third broad.

We will now leave the royal family at their feast — a young
hare and a fat Sea Gull, the latter brought by the male bird,
which we saw first returning, and descend, as best we may,
from the perilous height whereon they have fixed their dwelling,
fearless alike of the fowler’s gun and the wintry storm, which,
whistling and howling, sweeps around the cliff’s tall head.

“The tawny Eagle seats his callow brood
High in the cliff, and feasts his young with blood;

On Snowdon’s rocks, or Orkney’s wide domain,

Whose beetling cliffs o’erhang the western main,

The royal bird his lonely kingdom forms
Amidst the gathering clouds and sullen storms;

Through the wide waste of air he darts his sight,

And holds his sounding pinions poised for flight:

With cruel eve premeditates the war,

And marks his destined victim from afar;

Descending in a whirlwind to the ground,

His pinions like the rush of waters sound;

The fairest of the fold he bears away,

And to his nest compels the struggling prey,

He scorns the game by meaner hunters tore,

And dips his talons in no vulgar gore.” Mrs. Barbauld.

4

PEREGRINE FALCON.

BLUE HAWK. GREY HAWK. HUNTING HAWK. GOSHAWK.

CLIFF-HAWK. COMMON FALCON.

FIGURE 2.

This bird with many names is the largest but one of the
Falcon tribe, the very rare snowy Jer-Falcon only, being su-
perior to it in size. The term Falcon is derived from Falco,
to cut with a bill or hook; and Peregrine, from Peregrinus , a
traveller, one who comes from a distant clime or country: these
are both Latin derivations, and express, as do most of the
scientific names used in natural history, some peculiarity in the
conformation or habits of the creature to which they are applied.
All the Falcons are distinguished by their sharp, powerful, curved
beaks, adapted for tearing and cutting their prey; they are beautiful
birds, graceful in their forms and motions, swift of flight, keen
of sight, and exceedingly bold and destructive; they are to be
found in almost every part of the world, ranging far and wide
from their places of birth; truly peregrinators are they, or we
should rather say wanderers or travellers, for although this term,
and also peregrination , is to be found in the English dictionary,
yet they are inconvenient words, and not often used.

Six species of Falcon have been found in Britain; these are
the Jer-Falcon, a very rare bird; the one about which we
are writing; the Hobby; the Orange- Legged Hobby; the
Merlin; and the Kestrel, of which we shall have more to say
presently. The term Falcon does not occur in our translation
of the Scriptures, but the word which has been rendered Hawk,
is supposed to refer to both Hawks and Falcons, these birds
being nearly allied to, and greatly resembling, each other. In
the ancient sport, called Falconry, and sometimes Hawking,
both descriptions of birds were used to bring down the herons,
and other feathered game. This cruel sport is not much practiced
now, but a few trained birds are yet kept, and occasionally
we hear of “a feat of Falconry,” or “a Hawking match,” a
very different affair from the gay procession of knights and
stately ladies, with multitudes of attendants, which in the olden

PEREGRINE FALCON.

6

time, passed over the drawbridge of the grim castle, into the
green fields, amid the ringing of silver bells attached to the
necks of the hooded Falcons, and the ti-ra-la of bugles, calling
forth echoes from the silent forest.

And startling the heron that stood by the lake
To watch the fish glide, as though scarcely awake.

And making the wild duck fly screaming away,

And the pheasant his golden plumes spread to the day.

A well-trained Falcon was, in former times, deemed a present
worthy of a king’s acceptance; thus we read that the king of
Scotland sent Edward the First a present of a “Falcon-gentle;”
and that in the reign of James I. one Sir Thomas Marson,
gave one thousand pounds for a cast, that is a couple, of Hawks.

The nest of the Peregrine Falcon is usually found on high
cliffs overhanging the sea; it is shallow, and loosely constructed
of sticks, sea-weed, and such like coarse materials, and is com-
monly lined with a little hair; it is placed on a projection of
the rock, or in a crevice, and is used by the same birds from
year to year. A mere hollow in the bare rock is sometimes
chosen by the hen bird, which deposits her eggs, from two to
four in number, early in the spring; the colour is light brown-
ish red, elegantly marbled over with darker shades, streaks,
and patches: both the markings and ground colour vary
considerably in different varieties, and in accordance with the
age of the bird; the eggs generally measure about two inches
in length, by one and a twelfth in breadth. The number of
aquatic birds on which it can prey, is the Peregrine’s chief
attraction to the sea-coast; sometimes, however, it is found far in
the interior, and an instance is on record of its having taken up
its abode in the midst of London, on St. Paul’s Cathedral; the
attraction in this case being the nice plump pigeons which
frequented the spot, one of which was struck and seized by
the Falcon in Leicester Square.

High above the foaming seas,

Where the Guillemots are screaming,

Sets the Peregrine at ease,

Like a creature dreaming.

Is he wearied with his flight,

Circling wide and soaring high,

Seen amid the dawning light,

Like a faint speck in the sky?

6

KESTREL.

Is he sleeping, while his young
Watch him with their eager eyes?
No, his pinions wide are flung
On the gale, and piercing cries
From the caves beneath arise.
Auks and Penguins flap their wings,
Gulls fly off, a shrieking oi-owd;
Up his capture now he brings,

Like a conqueror proud :

Feathers fly, all stained with gore,
On the rocky ledge are more
Bones, though plentiful before.

KESTREL.

KASTRIL. KISTRIL. WINDHOVER. STONEGALL. STEINGALL.

STANNEL. KEELIE.

FIGURE 3.

This bird is also sometimes improperly called the Sparrow
Hawk, being confounded with the species which we shall next
have to describe, and to which that name properly belongs:
it is one of the commonest of British Falcons, and may be
found in all parts of our country, as well as in every quarter
of the globe. Its scientific name is Falco Tinnunculus , the latter
term being derived, it is supposed, from the Latin verb Tinnio,
to chirp. Although bold and fierce naturally, it is not a
difficult bird to tame ; this species of Falcon it was that formed
one of the “Happy Family," lately exhibited in London and
elsewhere, so that many of our readers may have seen a live
Kestrel, although sadly “cribbed, cabined, and confined,” not
hovering, as the wild free creature loves to do, with out-
spread wings, over the field or woodland, ready to dart down
upon the first unfortunate mouse, lizard, frog, leveret, or small
bird, which ventures into the sunshine to enjoy itself.

The habit of hovering almost motionless in the air, with the
tail extended, and the wings just slightly quivering, is quite
characteristic of the Kestrel, and has gained for it the popular
names of Stannel or Standgall, and Windhover* its descent upon,
its prey is described as resembling the falling of a stone from

KESTREL.

7

a great height, being swift, direct, and noiseless, and the mark
aimed at, although on many instances very small, is seldom missed.

The nest of this bird is sometimes placed on precipitous
heights on the sea shore, or elsewhere ; sometimes amid ruins,
and on church towers ; even in populous cities it has been known
to build, and in dove-cotes, where it must have been a most
unwelcome intruder; holes in sandy banks, where they are
sufficiently high to be out of reach, and also in the trunks of
old trees, are at times the chosen places ; in the tops of trees, as
commonly as anywhere, and the deserted nests of Magpies, Ravens,
and Jackdaws, are often taken possession of. When the Kestrel
does take the trouble to build a nest for itself, it proves but a
slovenly workman ; just a few twigs scrambled together, without
much attempt at interweaving, and a little hay or wool, or
a few feathers thrown inside, and the habitation is ready; no
contract taken for a feathered building society, could be more
hastily nor carelessly executed. When placed in rocks, or in
banks, even this little trouble is dispensed with, and the nest
is a mere hollow, with perhaps a few feathers inside. In fact
none of these rapacious birds are careful builders — they never
make their homes very comfortable; they are the warriors of
the feathered creation, and they care not for home pleasures :
a position of strength and security is all they look for, and
snug, warm, cozy nests are not for them. Constantly abroad,
battling with the elements or with their kind, pursuing their
prey, and dipping their talons in gore, all their joys are of a
fierce and exciting nature ; they love not quietude, and peace
dwells not in their habitations. They are most of them solitary
birds, not congregating in flocks and forming little social com-
munities, but living, each pair alone, like some robber in his
rocky fortress, the terror of all around ; nevertheless they have
their uses in the great scheme of creation; and God has given
to them their peculiar modes of enjoyment, with which, unless
there is a real necessity for it, we should not interfere.

The eggs of the Kestrel are described by Mr. Morris, in his
beautiful work on British Birds, as of an elliptical, that is of
an oval form, four or five in number, sometimes, though very
rarely, as many as six ; of a reddish or yellowish brown colour,
more or less speckled, or marbled over, with darker or lighter

8

SPARROW HAWK.

specks or blots of the same, and some even with a dingy white.
The size is on the average an inch and two-thirds in length,
by an inch and a quarter in breadth, so that they approach
very nearly to a sphere or globe in shape.

It was customary to keep Falcons trained for sport, hooded
or blindfolded, until they were loosened in pursuit of the game,
and it is said that if one escaped with its hood on, it would
keep soaring upwards, until it dropped dead from exhaustion:
hence a modern poet addressing ambition says —

“0 thou who hidd’st the brightest veil
Their intellectual eye,

And to thy dizzy dangerous height
Like hooded Falcon fly.”

SPARROW HAWK.

FIGURE 4.

Singular to say, this well-known bird seems really unprovided
with an alias, or second name ; Sparrow Hawk he is called every-
where, at least in this country, though, according to his scientific
title, Finch Hawk would be equally appropriate. Accipiter ,
from Accipio, to take ; and Fringillarius , from Fringilla, a Finch,
being his Latin designation. The Ancient Britons, it appears,
called him Gwepia; what that can mean we cannot exactly
tell, but we should hardly think that it expressed any great
degree of favour or affection. Next to the Kestrel, this is
the most common of the Hawk and Falcon families, and no
more daring or spirited bird is to be found. The Goshawk,
a rare species in England, is a larger and more powerful bird,
but not nearly so bold as this, which has been known to skim
over the poultry-yard, and snatch up a chicken in the open
day, when persons were looking on, and wondering at his impu-
dence. Not always will the fear of the gamekeeper’s gun keep
him from the preserve ; and many a young plump Partridge and
Pheasant has he borne away to his nest in the fir tree top,
on the ruined tower, or on the rocky ledge, as the case may
be. He chooses for his dwelling pretty much the same kind of
places as the Kestrel, and, like that bird, frequently avails

SPARROW HAWK.

9

himself of the labours of other feathered architects; sometimes
ejecting the rightful owner of a nest to which he takes a
fancy : he too is a slovenly builder when he does condescend
to such mere drudgery, and takes as little trouble iff the
selection of his materials, as in the mode of putting them
together.

The eggs of the Sparrow Hawk are nearly round, measuring
about an inch and seven-twelfths in length, by an inch and a
quarter in breadth ; their markings of a deep reddish brown,
upon a bluish white ground, are bold and striking, and seem
characteristic of the bird, whose actions and motions are all
decided, quick, and fearless. He has even been known to
attack his fierce and powerful king, the Golden Eagle, and make
it drop the prey which it was bearing to its expecting family of
princes and princesses. Think of that ! Perhaps this rebellious
subject wanted the Grouse, which he obliged his monarch to
relinquish, for his mate, who was sitting upon three, four, five,
six, or it might be even seven eggs, in that slovenly home of
his; these eg2S might be of a bluish white colour, with large
brown blotches dashed over the larger end ; or of a pale dull
olive, or of a dull white ground, with patches and streaks of
various shades ; or even of a clear white with no markings at
all ; but this latter is very unlikely, only one laying of such
having been discovered, that we have heard of : and this was
in a nest of five eggs procured in 1851, by N. Howe, Esq., of
Worcester College, Oxford, as recorded by Mr. Morris, in his
“Nests and Eggs of British Birds.”

High, high, in the clear blue sky,

There is a shadow; the Hawk is nigh!

Birds in the woodland cease to sing;

Crows the cock defyingly:

From the brown hen’s swelling throat,

“Cluck cluck,” comes the warning note,

As she gathers her chickens beneath her wing.

Farmer Giles takes down his gun,

And the ploughboy shades his eyes from the sun,

And the dog looks on, expecting fun.

Bang! no, missed! and the Hawk sweeps by,

Turning round, as much as to say —

I’m sorry you’ve thrown your powder away!

I’ll visit the farm-yard some other day.

10

BARN OWL.

CHURCH OWL. SCREECH OWL. WTH1TE OWL. HISSING OWL.

MADGE OWL. YELLOW OWL. HOWLET. GlLLIHOWTEIt.

FIGURE 5.

We have here a gooi choice of names; our readers may take
which they like, or they may go back to the Ancient British,
and call the bird Dylluan Wen; or refer to the nomenclature
of modern science, and speak of the Strix Flammea , the first
term applying to the whole family of Owls, and the last derived
from flamma , flame, distinguishing this particular species, the
upper parts of whose plumage is mostly of a yellow colour.
In the lists of British Birds given by naturalists, there are no
less than ten distinct species of Owls, the smallest being the
Scops, or Little Horned Owl, and the largest the Great Eagle
Owl ; these, and several others named in the lists, are very rare
birds with us, indeed not above three of the species may
be called common ; the one which we are now noticing, the
Mottled Tufted, and the Brown or Tawny Owl, may fairly
claim this distinction, although the last named will soon, it is
likely, become a rare bird, being devoted to death whenever
found, partly on account of the superstitious dread inspired
by its dismal hooting, and partly for its real or supposed
destructiveness amongst the young of game, both furred and
feathered. In truth, the dismal ’hoo-hoo-hoo’ of the Tawny
Owl, as well as the shriller screech of the White Owl, are
enough to make one’s hair stand on end, breaking, as they do,
the stillness of the night, and filling church-yards, and all ruinous
and desolate places, with strange unearthly echoes: but after
all it is but the cry of a bird — an empty sound, proceeding
from quite natural causes, and ought not to frighten us, any
more than the ghost-like figure of the creature which emits
it, which we sometimes catch a glimpse of as it glides in that
noiseless manner peculiar to Owls, amid the twilight of evening,
across the meadow and along the hedge-row, looking out for a
stray mouse, or rat., or mole, or other small animal.

These Barn Owls are great destroyers of mice; a pair of them

BARN OWL.

11

have been known, as Bishop Stanley states, to take as many
as forty to their nest in the course of an hour. How useful
then must they be to man, who ought to protect, instead of
destroy them, as he too often does: the little mischief which
they do must be far more than counterbalanced by the war they
wage upon all kinds of destructive vermin.

If you want to find a Barn Owl's nest, you must look for it
— where? why in a barn of course; perhaps a hasty reader will
reply; nay, not so fast: sometimes it may there be found; high
up, above the stout cross-beam, beneath the thatched root’, with
a thick curtain of cobweb before it, you may see, if you are
venturesome enough to climb thus far, where a broadish
ledge is formed by the meeting of the wall, and the thatch,
and the old cross-beam, the rude structure — just a few sticks
laid loosely together, with a little hay or straw on the top.
And there sits the goggle-eyed, wise-looking bird, upon her
two or three, or it may be as many as five or six, white
roundish eggs, about an inch and a half long, by one and a
quarter broad, as contented as possible. If the thrashers are
at work below, she does not heed them at all, only keeps a
sharp look out for the squeakers which they disturb in turning
over the sheaves. Every now and then, down she comes upon
her noiseless wings, with great swiftness, her white and yellow
plumage gleaming in the dusk like a flash of light; and ten
to one but she returns to her nest with a live creature struggling
in her claws, to be killed and eaten at leisure. If her young
are hatched, her visits to the barn floor are very frequent
indeed, and should there be no exit through the thatch, which
there frequently is, her mate and she keep flying out and in
at the door, as if they had a world of business in their hands,
as indeed they have! Not commonly however does the Barn
Owl obtain such comfortable quarters, but resorts to all sorts
of out-of-the-way places: hollow trees, and ivy-covered steeples
and ruins, the more dreary and lonesome the better, and if a
building of any kind is deserted and gets “a bad name;”
there, as Gray says in his beautiful “Elegy on a country church-
yard”—

“The moping Owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,

Molest her ancient solitary reign.”

12

RED-BACKED SHRIKE.

The Ancients, you know, dedicated the Owl to Minerva,
the goddess of Wisdom, on account, no doubt, of its exceedingly
grave and sensible look. It is shewn by commentators, that
is, writers who undertake to explain the meaning of the Scrip-
tures, that the word translated Owl, in our version of the
Bible, often refers to some other, and quite different bird.
Several of the references are, however, correctly given, as in
Isaiah, xxxiv. 14., where the “Screech Owl” is mentioned as a
bird which haunts lonely and desolate places. We will leave our
readers to find out this and other passages alluding to this
bird; and treat them to an Owl song, written by Alfred
Tennyson, the Poet Laureate of England: —

“When cats run home and light is come,

And dew is cold upon the ground,

And the far-off stream is dumb,

And the whirring sail goes round,

And the whirring sail goes round, —

Alone, and warming his five wits,

The White Owl in the Belfry sits.

When merry milkmaids click the latch,

And rarely smells the new-mown hay,

And the cock has sung beneath the hatch
Twice or thrice his roundelay,

Twice or thrice his roundelay, —

Alone, and warming his five wits,

The White Owl in the belfry sits.”

RED-BACKED SHRIKE.

BUTCHER BIRD. FLUSHER. CHEETER. MURDERING PIE. JACK
BAKER. WHISKEY JOHN, NINE-KILLER.

FIGURE 6.

Here again we have a choice of names, and curious names
some of them are, yet very complimentary to the bird, although
sufficiently expressive of the estimation in which it is generally
held. We cannot imagine for a moment that Jack Baker can
be a respectable member of feathered society, and Whiskey John
is evidently a haunter of public houses and such low places.
The first, fourth, and last of the above names are really shocking;
we do not care to repeat them; let us see if the scientific title

RED-BACKED SHRIKE.

13

is more pleasing — Lanius collurio, from lanius, a butcher — ah!
there we are again in the slaughter house; and what the other
term means, nobody seems to know, and it would not do for us
to pretend to be wiser than the learned in such matters. The
bird is called Flusher, or Flasher, because when it darts through
the air, the rich reddish brown plumage on the back and
wings has the effect of flashes of dull fire; and Cheeter, we
suppose, from its peculiarly shrill harsh1 note, for all which,
however, the bird is not a bad songster.

The Great Grey Shrike, and the Woodchat Shrike, are two
other species of the Lanius genus, as naturalists call the Butcher
Birds, which are found in this country. The one which we
are noticing is by far the most common. It is a migratory
bird, that is, one which does not remain all the year in a single
district or country, but migrates, changes or shifts its residence,
— migro , in Latin signifying to go, to depart. It arrives here
at about the end of April or beginning of May, and leaves
again in September or October, as many other birds do, for
a warmer climate, where they will find a greater abundance
of insects or other food. The Shrikes have been called Butcher
Birds from a peculiar habit which they have of sticking their
prey, which consists of lizards, frogs, mice, small birds, and the
larger kinds of insects, upon thorns or other sharp projections, and
so devouring it at leisure: they* make a sort of shambles of the
hedge-row, and perhaps drive a brisk trade in hind-quarters of
cockroaches, mice tails, frogs’ heads, and the like delicacies.

The nest of the Red-backed Shrike is rather a neat affair,
large for the size of the bird, which seldom weighs more
than an ounce, being six or seven inches across the top; stalks
of plants, grass, wTool, and moss form the exterior portion, while
the lining is fine fibres of roots, and sometimes hair. The
nest is placed in a hedge or bush, and generally but little
concealed from view.

The eggs are five or six in number, usually of a pale reddish
white, spotted with brown and red: they are ten and a half
twelfths of an inch long, by seven twelfths in breadth.

With eager eye, and half-expanded wings,

The Butcher Bird sits watching for its prey,

Amid the sunshine of a summer’s day,

14

SPOTTED FLYCATCHER.

And many 'a wary glance ai'ound he flings;

In mid-air flit and flutter glittering things,
Enjoying all life’s pleasures while they may,
Unconscious that the spoiler lurketh aye
Where pleasure sweetly to the charmed ear sings;
There is a whirring sound— a sudden cry; —

The Butcher Bird hath darted from his twig,

A form the less is in the sunny sky,

But who shall heed its loss; that moment, big
With fate to one, hath passed unmarked of all;
So man sinks down, and dies, in life’s great carnival.

SPOTTED FLYCATCHER.

GREY FLYCATCHER. BEE BIRD. BEAM BIRD.

COBWEB BIRD. POST BIRD. RAFTER. CHERRY CHOPPER.

CHERRY SUCKER. CHANCHIDER.

FIGURE 7.

This bird, which was the Y Gwybedog of the Ancient British,
is the Muscicapa grisola of modern naturalists, the first part of
the name being compounded of the Latin words musca , a fly, and
capio , to take or catch; we cannot tell what the meaning of
the second part may be. The above popular titles would
indicate that it is both a frugiverous and insectivorous bird,
that is, that it feeds upon both fruits and insects, but of the
former it takes so little as to be scarcely worthy of notice,
although it is often destroyed under the idea that it is a great
orchard depredator. When found in the cherry or fruit trees,
it is generally in pursuit of insects which feed there, and of
them it destroys immense numbers. It usually perches on the
top of a branch, or some other projection; and looks “all of a
lump,” as if it were asleep; but woe be to the buzzing blue-
bottle, or droning wasp, that comes near; — off it darts; the perch
is empty for a moment; you hear a snap of the bill, and look
up again, and there sits the little brown and grey bird^ just
as quietly as if nothing had happened. We have two species
of Flycatchers in this country, the Pied, which is sometimes
called the Goldfinch, and is a rare bird, and the Spotted or
Grey Flycatcher. They are both migratory birds, coming in
May, and departing in September or October.

SPOTTED FLVCATCEIER.

It)

The nest of our brisk little insect-killers is commonly built
in the orchard or garden, or somewhere not far from the
dwelling-house, and they are not at all shy or timid. Singular
nesting-places are sometimes chosen by this bird, for instance
the top of a lamp-post in Leeds, and even in the great city
of London, near Portman Square, where, as Mr. Jesse mentions,
a nest with five eggs, was taken; the head of a garden rake,
left by accident near a cottage; a bird-cage suspended with the
door open in the branch of a tree; the trellis-work over the
drawing-room window of Nafferton vicarage, where Mr. Morris
wrote his interesting account of this and other British Birds;
and many instances of the kind might be mentioned.

The materials used for the nest, which is generally built
about the beginning of June, are small twigs, catkins, and
moss; the lining is feathers, hair, down, and cobwebs, hence
one of the popular names of the bird; it is a neat little structure,
and usually contains four or five eggs, of a greyish or greenish
white, spotted with pale orange brown, and having sometimes
blots of greyish red at the larger end; size, nine-twelfths of
an inch long, by six and a half broad. There are sometimes
two broods in the year.

THE PIED AND SPOTTED FLYCATCHERS.

One is a dweller ’mid the frowning hills
Of Derbyshire, and rocky Westmorland,

Where silent awe the gazer’s bosom fills
To view the nodding tors and cliffs, that stand
In wild confusion tossed on every hand : —

To gaze adown the clefts and deep ravines,

And listen to the roar — as thunder grand —

Of falling waters; — yes, he loves those scenes,

Wherein the form of man but seldom intervenes.

The other, more familiar, makes his nest

Hard by the populous town ; within the shed
Devoted to man’s use, he takes his rest,

And there his callow brood are reared and fed;

And when the sun-kissed cherry tumeth red,

Parents and younglings, to the orchard-ground
Are by the calls of secret instinct led,

For there their prey most plentiful is found,

In gauzy-winged flies the fruit that hover round.

16

DIPPER.

WATER OUZEL. WATER CROW. WATER PIET. DUCKER.

FIGURE 8.

The scientific name of this bird is Sturnns cinclus, or as some
sav Cinclus Europceus , that is the European Dipper. It is a
bird which frequents rivers and streams, perching on stones or
on the banks, and descending to the bottom in search of aquatic
insects and small shell-fish, on which it principally feeds. It
possesses an extraordinary power of remaining a long time under
water; and some writers have asserted that it can walk on the
bed of the stream without inconvenience; but this does not
appear to be correct; its breathing organs are like those of other
birds, and although it has rather a stout heavy body, and little
or no tail, yet its plumage is too light and buoyant to admit of
such a feat. The bird just makes a rapid plunge, which carries
it down, and remains only long enough to secure its prey, using
no doubt great exertion, both with wings and legs, to keep itself
beneath the water; the latter are short, and ill adapted for
walking, but the claws are long and curved, and well calculated
to secure a steady footing upon slippery stones.

The Dippers are tolerably numerous in this country, and yet
they are not generally known, for they haunt retired spots,
and are confined to few localities; they are more plentiful in
Scotland than in England. They build a broad flattish nest,
like a magnified powder-puff, with a little hole in front or on
one side, only it is not made of white down, but generally of
moss and grass, and lined with dry leaves. It is placed near
the water, and usually concealed from view by an overhanging
bank, a rocky projection, or the spreading roots of a river-side
tree; it is a very warm comfortable abode, and large for the
size of the bird; it has been found in the spokes of a disused
water-wheel, and also in a very pretty picturesque situation,
with the current of a cascade falling down before it like a glass
curtain. When the little Dippers are nearly fledged, if you go
too near the nest and frighten them, they will tumble out
head over heels, and go plump into the water, in the most
ludicrous manner imaginable.

MISSEL THRUSH.

17

The eggs of the Water Ouzel are five or six in number, of
a longish oval shape, rather pointed at one end; their colour
is pure white, and they are about an inch long, by nine-
twelfths broad.

The neat little Dipper, he lives by the stream

Where the beams of the sun on the bright ripples gleam;

And he builds him a house all of moss, soft and warm,

To shelter his young from the wind and the storm.

There he pops in and out, and he flits up and down,

And he stays ’neath the wave, till you think he would drown.

MISSEL, OR, MISTLE THRUSH.

SHRITE. GREY THRUSH.

HOLM THRUSH. SCREECH THRUSH. STORM-COCK.

FIGURE 9.

This is the largest of British Song Birds,' and a loud, strong-
voiced, noisy fellow he is; taking delight to sit upon a post,
or some elevated spot, when the wind is whistling, and the
lightning flashing, and the thunder rattling around, and shriek
away as if in defiance of the elements, whence he has obtained
the two last of the above popular names. Naturalists call him
Turdus viscivorus ; the first word signifying a Thrush, and the
second a plant growing upon the trunks of oak, ash, and other
large trees, and called mistletoe; the juices of this plant are
of a sticky nature, good for making bird-lime, to express which
quality we have adopted the Latin phrase, and say viscid. Here
again you see how expressive are those scientific terms if well
looked into. Holm is an old Saxon term; it signifies the Ilex,
or evergreen oak, and was applied to the bird probably because
it was observed to frequent that kind of tree, on which the
mistletoe, of whose berries it is very fond, grow most plenti-
fully. Shrite must be also Saxon, no doubt expressive of the
loud shrill note of the bird.

The Missel Thrush is a permanent resident in this country,
although some flocks arrive here in October, and leave again in
May, congregating with the Common Thrushes, Fieldfares, and

18

MISSEL THRUSH.

other birds of the kind, which settle on our snow-covered fields
in winter, and afford some excellent sport for the fowler. It
is a bold quarrelsome bird, and is frequently engaged in warfare,
with other members of the feathered tribes, in which it is
generally victorious; hence the Welsh people call it Peun y
llwyn — master of the coppice.

Gilbert White, in his “Natural History of Selborne,” a book
full of interesting and entertaining observations on animals of
all kinds, alludes to the fierceness of this bird, and says that
in Hampshire it builds much in orchards. This naturalist also
relates that, although the Missel Thrush is generally successful
in defence of his family against the attacks of larger birds,
yet he once observed several Magpies destroy both nest and
young, which they swallowed alive, although the sitting hen
used all her powers to repel them.

This bird is one of our earliest builders, commencing usu-
ally in April; the nest is fixed on the fork of a branch
generally high up in the tree; frequently an apple tree in an
orchard is the chosen spot; sometimes considerable art is dis-
played in concealing it from view, at others it is quite
exposed. It is carefully and neatly made, externally with
lichens, moss, dry grass, and stems of various plants; within
which is a layer of mud, and over that a lining of fine grass.

The eggs are four or five in number, of a greenish white
colour, spotted with reddish brown; sometimes the ground colour
is reddish white, with dark red-brown spots. There are two
broods in the year. In the spring and summer the bird feeds
chiefly on worms and insects; in autumn and winter on various
kinds of berries.

“See the Blackbird and the . Thrush
Are inmates of the lowly hush;

And, nestling in the lofty tree,

The Missel-bird our inmate see.

Already may the curious eye,

Aslant their patient forms descry
Close cowering: let the passing glance
Suffice thee; nor with rush advance,

Or motion of the extended arm
The mother from her charge alarm.”

Bishop Mant on April .

19

SONG THRUSH.

THRUSH. MAVIS. THROSTLE.

FIGURE 10.

Tardus musicus is the scientific name of this loud and sweet
songster, which is one of the most common of our British
Birds. Should my readers have forgotten what the first of
these Latin terms signifies, let them turn to the bird last de-
scribed; the second term has reference to its musical powers,
which, as we all know, are very great. Old English and
Scottish writers often allude to the Thrush under the name
of Mavis and Throstle, and in Scotland to this day it is more
frequently called by the first of these names than by any
other; thus Burns says —

“The Mavis wild, wi’ many a note
Sings drowsy day to rest.”

While William Browne, an English poet of the seventeenth
century, when he went forth in the morning, knew that it was
very early, because

“The Throstle had not been
Gathering worms upon the green.”

And in these two short quotations we learn several interesting
facts connected with the natural history of this bird. Thus
Browne tells us, that it feeds upon worms, and gets up early
in the morning, while the grass is moist with dew, to catch
them. You know there is an old proverb which says “the
early bird catches the worm,” indicating that those who wish
to thrive must be industrious, and not lie a-bed too long. From
Burns we learn that the Mavis wild, (that is shy, loving to
hide in the hedges and bushes,) with many a note, (that is
with a full rich song, having in it many changes and modu-
lations,) sings drowsy day to rest, (that is, sings late into the

evening, as we have all heard it, as though it were chanting

a lullaby to the day, and inviting all nature to repose.) See
now how much may be learned from the poets, if they are

true poets, and have studied the wonderful works of God.

20

SONG THRUSH.

Of Thrushes there are several species in this country. In
what is called the genus Tardus , naturalists have placed the
Blackbird, which we shall have to speak of presently; the
Missel and Song Thrushes; the Fieldfare, a common bird with
us in the winter; the Redwing, also common at that season;
the Ring Ouzel, a migratory bird, pretty much confined to the
mountainous districts; and the Variegated Thrush, of which
only a specimen or two has been taken here. These Thrushes
are all of them insectivorous and frugiverous birds — I have
already explained what these terms mean; seeds they sometimes
take, and also grain when much pressed by hunger. Large
flocks of the commoner kinds may be seen in winter about
the fields and farm-yards, hunting the hedges for berries, and
picking up whatever is eatable. They generally contrive to
keep themselves in pretty fair condition, and as they are large
birds, and their flesh is very good, they are worth shooting;
so4 that large flocks are every year much thinned by the
fowler’s gun; nor is this wanton cruelty; God has given these
and all creatures for man’s use, and he is quite justified in
killing them, if it be to answer a beneficial end.

Like the Missel Thrush, the Throstle is an early breeder,
and it has usually two broods in the year. The nest is frequently
placed in the centre of an evergreen shrub, bush, or thick tree,
such as the holly or fir; it is formed externally of moss and
root fibres; over the interior is spread a fine even layer of
cow-dung or mud, and rotten wood, forming a cement, which
is impervious to wet; on this the eggs are placed; they are
usually four or five in number, of a prettjr light greenish blue
colour, largely spotted with black, or very dark brown; in length
about an inch; in breadth nine-twelfths of an inch. The Thrush
has been known to build in an open shed or tool-house, and
other exposed situations, but generally it takes good care to
place its nest well out of reach, and hidden from prying eyes.
Pity that so frequently its efforts at. concealment are unavailing.

“Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush
That overhung a mole-hill large and round,

I heard, from morn to morn, a merry Thrush,

Sing hymns to sunrise, while I drank the sound
With joy: — and often, an intruding guest,

I watch’d her secret toils from day to day,

BLACKBIRD.

21

How true she warp’d the moss to form her nest,

And model’ d it within with wood and clay.

And by and by, like heath-bells gilt with dew,

There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers,

; Ink-spotted-over shells of green and blue,

And there I witness’d, in the summer hours,

A brood of Nature’s minstrels chirp and fly,

Glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky.” Clare.

BLACKBIRD.

BLACK THRUSH. OUZEL. GARDEN OUZEL. MERLE.

FIGURE 11.

The haunts and habits of the Blackbird are much the same
as those of the Thrush; it is a shy bird, and much more fre-
quently heard than seen. From early dawn to evening twilight
does its loud, clear, mellow song float over the landscape, and
now and then we just catch a glimpse of its glossy black
plumes and golden bill, as it flits from hedge to hedge, or
passes from one leafy covert to another. We do not often
see more than a single bird at a time, although most probably
its mate is near at hand. This habit of singing and flying
solitary is supposed to have gained for the bird the name
Merle, by which it was once commonly known in this country,
and also its scientific designation — Tardus morula , from mera ,
Latin, which sometimes signifies the same as solus — alone.
Those writers who call the Thrush a Mavis, almost invariably
call the Blackbird a Merle. You will recollect that the forester
in Scott's “Lady of the Lake,” sings —

“Merry it is in the good green wood,

When the Mavis and Merle are singing.”

Shakspere gives us a variation of the term Ouzel as applied
to this bird, describing it as

“The Woosel-coch , so black of hue,

With orange tawny bill.”

And by Drayton, another old English poet, we are told that

“On his dulcet pipe the Merle doth ever play.”

22

BLACKBIRD.

The Blackbird is especially fond of cherries and other fruits,
therefore does the gardener wage war against him, without
taking into account the immense number of worms, slugs,
snails, and insects which he destroys: he must do at least as
much good as mischief, and should therefore, for the sake of
his sweet song, be allowed to live and enjoy himself in his
own way.

The centre of a thick bush is the place usually chosen for
the Merle's nest; it is formed on the outside of coarse roots
and strong bents of grass, plastered over the inside with mud,
and lined with fine grass-stalks and hair, sometimes leaves.
The eggs are four or five in number, now and then, but very
rarely, six; the ground colour is usually light blue, not unlike
the eggs of the Thrush, but the spots and freckles are of a
pale reddish brown; at times the eggs are found without these
altogether, and at others the markings are very faint indeed:
there are two broods, the first being generally hatched at the
end of March or beginning of April. In the year 1837, accor-
ding to Mr. Blythe, a pair of these birds built four successive
nests on an island in St. James’ Park, London, and reared seven-
teen young ones.

Did my readers ever hear tell of a White Blackbird? Such
a curiosity has been seen more than once, twice, or thrice.
Albinos, as they are sometimes called, from the Latin Albus ,
white, are not so very uncommon. Hear what a beautiful song
James Montgomery sings to the Blackbird. —

Golden Bill! Golden Bill!

Lo! the peep of day;

All the air is cool and still,

From the elm tree on the hill,

Chant away:

While the moon drops down the west,

Like thy mate upon her nest,

And the stars before the sun
Melt, like snow-flakes, one by one,

Let thy loud and welcome lay
Pour along

Few notes, but strong.

Jet- bright wing! jet-bright wing!

Flit across the sunset glade;

Lying there in wait to sing,

Listen with thy head awry,

RING OUZEL.

23

Keeping tune -with twinkling eye,
While from all the woodland glade,
Birds of every plume and note
Strain the throat,

Till both hill and valley ring,

And the warbled minstrelsy,

Ebbing, flowing, like the sea,

Claims brief interludes for thee:
Then with simple swell and fall,
Breaking beautiful through all,

Let thy Pan-like pipe repeat
Few notes, but sweet!

RING OUZEL.

ROCK OUZEL. TOR OUZEL. MOUNTAIN OUZEL.

MOUNTAIN BLACKBIRD. MOOR BLACKBIRD. WHITE-BREASTED
BLACKBIRD. RINGED THRUSH, OR BLACKBIRD. *

FIGURE 12.

We have here a good many names, with but little variety
of meaning; they all have reference either to the bird’s place
of abode — the wide, wild moor, and the rock mountain, or to
the marks on its plumage, which are very distinct and unmis-
takeable. The French call the bird Merle a plastron blanc — the
Merle, or Blackbird, with the white breastplate; the term Ouzel
also comes from that language, being in old French, according
to an authority named Nares, Oisel , which strikes us as very
like Oiseau , the French for bird. Tardus torquatus is the
scientific name of the Ring Ouzel, torquatus meaning one that
wears a collar or chain. A naturalist named Hewitson says
this bird sings sweetly, and Selby says clearly and powerfully,
though the notes are few. With us it is a summer visitant
only, and to be found but in certain parts of the country.

It builds a nest much like that of the Blackbird, which has
been found under the shelter of a furze or juniper bush, on the
face of a rough bank, and among fragments of rock. It lays
from four to six eggs, of a pale bluish green, freckled over with
pale brown; they are about an inch long, and ten-twelfths
broad.

24

DUNNOCK.

HEDGE SPARROW. HEDGE CREEPER. HEDGE CHANTER.

DICK DUNNOCK. SHUFFLE-WING.

FIGURE 13.

This is a brisk lively little bird, something like the Wren,
and almost as well known; it is called in scientific language
Accentor rnodularis , the meaning of which we need scarcely
explain, the terms being so much like English words, as to
convey their own signification. The Alpine Accentor, or Chanter,
sometimes called the Collared Starling, and this bird, are placed
in a genus’ by themselves, by one of the British naturalists named
Macgillivray. A genus in natural history, you should understand,
is a distinct group of animals which have certain characteristics
alike, and are therefore placed together for convenience. A
genus may contain two distinct species, like this Accentor genus,
or a dozen. The plural of genus is genera; it is a Latin phrase,
and means literally a race or family. The first scientific name
which we see attached to a bird or other classified object in
nature, is the generic name, because it indicates the genus to
which it belongs; the second is the specific name, that is, belonging
to the species only. Try and remember this. We need not
trouble you just now with orders and classes, they will come
bye and bye, in another book perhaps. Now for an exercise.
To what species of bird do those five light, greenish blue eggs
belong? they are without spot or freckle, rather pointed in shape,
nine or ten twelfths of an inch long, by seven twelfths broad;
the nest which contains them is rather large for a small bird;
it is formed of moss, fine roots, and wool, lined with hair,
and placed in the lower part of an almost leafless hedge, where
it can be easily seen and come at? Why the Hedge Sparrow's.
Ah! to be sure, every school-boy knows that. And on every
string of eggs hung up in the cottage or play- room, you will
find such numbers of these pretty little blue ones, that the
wonder is, that there are any sweet Hedge Warblers left to sing
to us. Well, but to what genus does the bird belong! You
have just told us the accentor genus. True, but you must not
be surprised, if, when you take in hand a large natural history.

REDBREAST.

25

you find some other generic name, such as Motacilla, going before
modularise for different naturalists have their different methods
of arrangement — more *s the pity — and sadly they puzzle the
student sometimes to find out the proper place of a bird, in
their widely-differing systems.

But we are forgetting our friend the Shuffle-wing, so called
from a peculiar habit which he has of shaking his wings,
while singing his clear and pleasantly modulated song. It is
in the nest of this bird, which is sometimes called the Titling,
that the Cuckoo often deposits its single egg, and leaves its
young to be brought up. The little monster soon outgrows
the young Sparrows, and sometimes even turns them out of
the nest, greatly to the astonishment and fear of the mother
bird, whose utmost powers are taxed to supply her voracious
foster-child with enough food. It has even been asserted by
an ancient author named Aristotle, that the young Cuckoo
eventually eats its kind protector up; but this cannot be true,
although given countenance to by Shakspere, who makes the
fool in the play of “King Lear” say, in allusion to the King’s
ungrateful daughters, —

“The Hedge Sparrow fed the Cuckoo so long,

That she had her head bit off by her young.”

REDBREAST.

ROBIN. ROBINET. RUDDOCK.

FIGURE 14.

In all countries where this bird is known, and there are
few where he is not, he is distinguished by some familiar term
of endearment. Thus, in Sweden, they call him Tommi-Liden;
in Norway, Peter Ptonsmed; in Germany, Thomas Guidito: Bob
and Bobby are common names for him in this country, and
with old and young, rich and poor, he is a prime favourite.
Our great poet Wordsworth, has addressed him in these lines: —

“Thou art the bird whom man loves best,

The pious bird with the scarlet breast,

26

REDBREAST.

Our little English Robin;

The bird that comes about our doors
When autumn winds are sobbing!

Thou art the Peter of Norway boors!

Their Thomas in Finland,

And Russia far inland!

The bird, which by some name or other,

All men who know thee call thee brother.”

Except the Nightingale and Skylark, there is no bird which
the poets have so much delighted to honour as this; and in
the memory of childhood, it is associated with all that is gentle
and kind; for is it not said in that beautiful and pathetic
ballad, “The Children in the Wood,” that

“No burial these pretty babes
Of any man receives;

But Robin Redbreast painfully,

that is, carefully — tenderly —

Did cover them with leaves.”

Yes, the spruce Eobinet, the cheerful Euddock, is a welcome
visitor everywhere; and in the dreary winter time, he makes
himself quite at home by many a country window-sill, and
even fireside; and warbles his short sweet song, as though he
were grateful for the daily dole of crumbs, and the kind words
which he is sure to receive. William Howitt tells us that
when he was in Winchester, he saw, amid the deserted cloisters
of Wyckham’s College, a Eobin, which, the porter told him,
was the chapel bird, that regularly attended Divine Service —
a pious bird indeed!

But if we were to enter upon the anecdotal part of Eobinet’s
history, there is no telling when we should end; so we had
better not begin. Now, what do our young readers think the
naturalists call this simple little bird? They will never guess,
so we will tell them: — Motacilla , or Sylvia , or JEritJiacus rubecula;
the first three being generic names, and the last specific —
distinguishing the particular species; it comes from the Latin
rubra, meaning red. The French call this bird Bee-fin JRouge-
gorye — Sharp-beak, Eed-throat; and the Germans, Das Roth-
kehlchen. So that our Eobin is not without high-sounding
titles; enough to make him proud, one would think! And a

REDBREAST.

27

proud bird he is too, and quarrelsome withal, if the truth
must be told — a very Turk among his kind: two male Robins
seldom meet without fighting, and their contests are often
fierce and bloody.

The nest of the Robin is generally placed under a hedge,
or bush, or tuft of herbage, on the ground; sometimes in a
mossy bank, or grassy knoll, and it has been found in a deserted
mole-hill. It is related in Mr. Yarrell’s “History of British
Birds,” that one of these nests was built in a small saw-pit,
and that the female continued to sit, although the sawing of
timber went on every day during the hatching of the eggs, and
rearing the young. Another pair of Robins, as stated in the
“Field Naturalist’s Magazine,” built three successive nests in
a cottage which adjoined a noisy blacksmith’s shop, and which,
although not actually inhabited, was used as a kind of store-
house, and constantly visited. First, they chose a child’s
covered cart, which was hanging on a peg over the fire-place;
then a shelf on the opposite side of the room, close to an old
mouse-trap; and then another shelf in a different corner,
where there was a bundle of papers. Many persons visited
these nests out of curiosity, but did not alarm the old birds,
which flew in and out to feed their young through an open
window-frame.

The Robin breeds early in the spring; its nest is rather
bulky, being formed of moss, dead leaves, and dry grass, and
lined with hair, and sometimes a few feathers. The eggs are
from five to seven in number, spotted with pale reddish brown,
which sometimes has a purple tinge on a white ground. They
are of a regular oval form, nine and a half twelfths of an inch
long, by seven and a half broad. The poet of Dartmoor,
Carrington, thus addresses the Robin: —

Sweet bird of autumn, silent is the song
Of earth and sky, that in the summer hour
Eang joyously, and thou alone art left
Sole minstrel of the dull and sinking year,

But trust me, warbler, lovelier lay than this,

Which now thou pourest to the chilling eve,

The jov-inspiring summer never knew.

The very children love to hear thy tale,

And talk of thee in many a legend wild.

And bless thee for those touching notes of thine!

28

REDSTART.

REDTAIL. FIRETAIL.

' FIGURE 15.

According to Macgillivray, we have in this country two species
of Redstarts, besides the one above named, which he calls the
White-fronted Redstart; the others are the Blue-throated and
the Black-breasted, or rI ithy’s Redstart : the former is often
called the Blue- throated Warbler. These are both uncommon
birds with us, while the Red, or Firetail, as it is sometimes
termed, on account of the orange tint of the tail, is by no means
so. It is a lively bird, and a sweet songster, possessing great
imitative powers. Its Latin name is Motacilla or Sylvia phoe-
nicurus; the first generic name signifying a Wagtail, the second
having reference to a wood; and the specific term being that
used by the old natural historian Pliny, to denote, as it is
supposed, a bird of this kind.

The Common Redstart is a migratory bird, arriving in this
country from the middle to the end of April, and leaving in
October. Its nest, which is composed of fibrous roots and
moss, and plentifully lined with hairs, is frequently placed in
a hole or chink of an old wall, sometimes in a hollow tree, or
behind a branch nailed against a wall: it has been discovered
in a hole in the ground. The eggs are of a uniform bluish
green colour, very like those of the Hedge Sparrow ; than
which, however, they are somewhat smaller, being nine-twelfths
of an inch in length, by six-twelfths in breadth; they vary in
number from four to seven, sometimes eight.

The lively Redstart strains his little throat,

Perch’d on an orchard tree throughout the day;

When downy seeds upon the breezes float,

And withered leaves begin to strew the way;

And although bright the sunny beams that play
Upon the landscape, yet all things denote
The glory of the year hath pass’d away:

And there he warbles out his farewell note.

Soon will his desultory song be heard
In climes more bright and balmier than ours ;

The cold, ungenial north suits not this bird,

And so he journeys to a laud, where bowers
Are ever green, to visit us again
When the sweet smile of April lights the plain.

29

STONECHAT.

STONESM1CH, OR SMITH. STONECHATTER. STONECHINK. BLACK CAP.

MOOR TITLING. BLACKY-TOP.

FIGURE 16.

Motacitta, or Sylvia rubicola is the scientific name of this
bird. Our readers need not to be again told the meaning of
the generic terms, and the derivation of rubicola appears to be
from rubus , a bramble, and colo , to inhabit. lSTo part of the
Stonechat’s plumage is decidedly red, but the breast and the
edging of the wings, and the tail, having a rusty tinge, im-
part a reddish hue to the whole figure of the bird, which
Macgillivray calls the Black-headed Bushchat; the French name
for it is Le Traquet — a mill clapper; from this, and his pop-
ular English names, we may safely conclude that he is a noisy
fellow — a chatterer! as indeed he is; jerking himself about
among the whin and gorse bushes, beneath which, in juniper
and other low shrubs, his nest is generally made. He fills the
lonely places which he frequents with his sharp broken notes,
like the syllables snack , chat , or chit.

This bird appears to be but a partial migrant, for, although
many leave the country in the autumn, yet some are to be
found here the whole winter through. It builds a large nest
for its size, of grass and moss, lined with finer grass, fibrous
roots, hair, and wool. The eggs are of a light greenish blue
colour, marked toward the larger end with spots of pale brown;
the number is five or six; the size, eight-twelfths and a half
long, by seven-twelfths broad.

Shy bird of the common, that makest thy home
In the furze bush, all spangled with blossoms of gold,

Where seldom the wandering citizens come,

Or rustics approach, thy retreat to behold.

Thou singest thy song in the wilderness wild,

To the burvowing rabbit, and lonely Pee-wlieet;

Like a hermit, no more by youth’s feelings beguiled,

Who knoweth the pleasures of life are a cheat.

30

WHINCHAT.

FURZECHAT. WHIN BUSHCHAT. GRASSCHAT.

FIGURE 17.

This the French call Le Grand Traquet , as if he were indeed
something like a chatterer! that other made a noise like a mill
clapper, but this! oh, this resembles a great mill clapper!! and yet
we cannot learn that he makes a greater noise than his congener,
as a bird of the same genus would be called. On the contrary,
he seems the more quiet of the two — his sharp cry not being
so frequently heard, and his song being more soft and agreeable.
In their general habits and modes of life, these two Chats are
very similar, but the one which we are now noticing appears
to be altogether migratory, none remaining in this country
during the winter. It builds a nest of much the same mate-
rials as the Stonechat; places it also upon the ground; and
lays in it five or six bluish green eggs, sometimes marked
with reddish brown spots, but more frequently quite plain;
size, eight-twelfths and a half long, by six and a half broad.

The scientific name of this species is Motacilla or Sylvia
rubetra; in Latin the word rubetra signifies a toad of a red
colour that keeps about bushes; and the marks on the head of
the Whinchat, bearing some resemblance to those on the skin
of that animal, gave rise to this specific name.

This bird and the Stonechat feed chiefly on beetles and
other insects. Bishop Mant tells us, in his description of the
month of April —

- “How in wild moor,' or sterile heath,

Bright with the golden furze, beneath
O’erhanging bush or shelving stone,

The little Stonechat dwells alone,

Or near his brother of the Whin;

Among the foremost to begin

His pretty love-song’s tinkling sound; —

Not heedless of the winding pass,

That leads him through the secret grass.”

31

WHEATEAR.

WHITERUMP. WHITETAIL. STONECHAT. STONECHACK.

FALLOWSNATCH. FALLOWCHAT. SNORTER. ENGLISH ORTOLAN.

FIGURE 18.

One of the popular names of this bird., we see, is the same
as that which properly belongs to the species just described
— the Stonechat; and indeed Macgillivray calls this bird, which
is distinguished by the scientific title Motacilla , or Sylvia ce7ianthey
the White-rumped Stonechat. Yarrell, and most other natur-
alists however term it the Wheatear, and that is the name by
which it is generally known. It has more white about its
plumage than the other Chats, which in habits and general
conformation it greatly resembles.

It is said to be the earliest of our summer visitants, generally
arriving about the middle of March, and has been seen in the
country as late as November 17th., at which date Mr. Sweet
observed a pair near a gravel-pit in Hyde Park, flying about
in pursuit of insects — the chief food of this bird. Sandy downs,
chalk and gravel-pits, and stony slopes, and such places where
there are plenty of holes for building in, are chiefly resorted
to by the Wheatear, which is sometimes called the Fallow
Finch, because it frequents lands which lie fallow, or unculti-
vated.

The nest of this species is often hidden deep in sandy banks
or chalky cavities, sometimes in rabbit-burrows; it is composed
of grass, roots, and moss, with a lining of hair, wool, and
feathers. The eggs are from four to seven in number; pale
greenish blue; ten-twelfths of an inch long, seven-twelfths
broad. The author, whose lines we have quoted on the opposite
page, also alludes to this bird, saying —

“In the wild rabbit’s haunt, or field,

Where the brown fallow, newly tilled,

The reptiles ’mid the crumbling soil
Upturns, or flies, his favourite spoil,

Fain would I see the Wheatear show,

In the dark sward, his rump of snow,

Of spotless brightness.

32

SEDGE WARBLER.

SEDGE BIRD. SEDGE WREN. SEDGE REEDLING.

FIGURE 19.

Naturalists call this pretty little bird Motacilla or Sylvia
salicaria, from salioc, a willow, because it is usually found in
moist marshy places, where willow trees best flourish* here too
grow the sedges and rushes, amid which it loves to sport and
build, and hence the popular names of the bird. Another
scientific name for it is Salicaria .p hragmitis , from the Latin
Phragmitis, a reed or cane: so the French say Bec-fin Phrag-
mite , when speaking of the sprightly Reedling — not an uncommon
bird in the marshy districts of this country, although but little
known to people generally, on account of its retired habits.
It is a summer visitor only, arriving in April and leaving
again in September.

Like most of the true Warblers it is insectivorous, and the
tall aquatic plants are its game preserves; there it finds in
abundance sprawling water-beetles, and spiders, and dancing
gnats, and dragon-flies, gleaming in the sun like winged
emeralds, and feeds away right merrily: there it places on the
ground its large, loosely-constructed nest of moss and coarse
grass, lined with finer grass, and perhaps a little hair intermixed,
within which are placed five or six eggs, of a greenish or
yellowish white, spotted or freckled with light brown. The
young are hatched towards the end of May, or beginning of
June. Brown and dingy white are the prevailing colours of
the plumage of this bird, which is a sweet songster, singing
all day long, and easily urged into song, if, when it chances
to be silent, a stone is thrown at it! Its singing is very
singular, as it sounds forth from the reedy waters late at
night, when hundreds of voices seem sometimes joining in
concert; and the traveller, at that lone hour, listens with
wonder and pleasure to the strange tones.

33

REED WARBLER.

REED WREN. MARSH REEDLING.

FIGURE 20.

Motacilla , or Sylvia arundinacea , is the title assigned to this
bird in the lists of most naturalists, and the reason of the
generic term will be at once perceived, when we state that
arundo in Latin means a reed or cane. The places of resort,
habits, and general appearance of this bird are so similar to
those of the Sedge Warbler, that the two are generally con-
founded. The nest, however, affords an obvious mark of

distinction; being, in this species, generally somewhat elevated
above the ground, and supported by the stalks of the reeds
or rushes around which it is woven. It is rather a deep

structure, somewhat in the form of an inverted cone, or, to
be plainer, a sugar-loaf turned upside down, only not so long
in proportion to its breadth as that. It is sometimes built so
close to the river, that, at every flow of the tide, the water
covers the ground beneath it, and there it hangs, swayed to
and fro by the gale which whistles amid the sedges around,
and waves about their long streamer-like leaves — as pretty a
sight as the eye need wish to see; especially if there should

be four or five little cheepers peeping over the edges, and

saying, as well as they are able, ‘‘give, give !” while the old
birds flit in and out of the reedy forest, bringing food, and at
times stopping to pour out the low sweet warble peculiarly their
own, or to imitate the notes of some other bird, that chances
to be singing near at hand. Often is this warble heard in
calm clear summer nights, hence the term Night Warbler has
been applied to the bird; when it ceases to sing, should any
one be desirous to hear it again, a stone thrown into the lurk-
ing-place of the songster, will generally attain the desired
object. Bec-fin des Roseaux is the French name for this bird;
des Roseaux meaning of the reeds.

Its nest is composed of the same materials as that of the
Sedge Warbler, and the eggs are about the same in number
and size ; that is eight-twelfths of an inch long, by six-twelfths

D

34

NIGHTINGALE.

in breadth, of a greenish white colour, spotted with ash-green
and light brown. The following descriptive lines will suit
equally well for either bird: —

Where rushes hide the stagnant pool, or fringe the gliding stream,

And in the sunshine dragon-flies, like winged jewels, gleam;

Where on the borders of the marsh, the stunted hawthorns grow,

And thrift, and wild sea-lavender, shed o’er a purple glow;

Where alders tremulously stand, and osier twigs are seen
To dance unto the singing breeze, like fairies clad in green;

Where drooping willows kiss the wave, and whistling reeds in ranks,
Incline their velvet heads unto the shores, and shelving banks;

Where dives the sullen water-rat; where leaps the speckled frog;

And flies and midges gaily sport above the quaking bog; —

’Tis there the blithe Sedge Warbler dwells, and there his nest he builds,
In rushy tuft, or whatsoe’er the needful shelter yields;

’Tis there he singetli constantly, a sweet, though scarce-heard song,

When skies are beautifully blue, and summer days are long,

And sometimes in the misty morn, and sometimes in the night,

He chanteth out right merrily, to show his heart is light:

He glanceth ’twixt the bending reeds, and skimmeth o’er the tide,

And many a snug retreat is there, his form from foes to hide;

Come weal, come woe, his constant mate still sitteth on her nest,

And food is plentiful, that he may pick and choose the best;

And for his rising family he hath no anxious cares,

Like men, that know the world is full of pitfalls and of snares,

With fears, that truly prophesy, his heart is never stirred;

He is unconscious of all these — oh, happy, happy bird!

NIGHTINGALE.

FIGURE 21.

We are almost afraid to begin about the Nightingale, lest
we should never leave off again ; the subject being one which
a real lover of birds can scarcely treat of in plain prose, or
in a limited space. Singular to sav, this chief of feathered
songsters has but one common name; at least in this country,
where it is universally called the Nightingale — the name being
composed of two Saxon words, signifying night and to sing.
My readers are not, however, to imagine that because they
hear this bird spoken of as the bird of night, the songster of
the night, and so on, that it only sings during the silent hours
usually devoted to sleep; its melodious song may be constantly
heard in the day-time, from April, when it arrives in this

NIGHTINGALE.

country, to the beginning of June, when it usually becomes
silent, or utters only an occasional hoarse kind of croak, which is
supposed to be a warning of approaching danger to its mate
or young. The Nightingale is frequently alluded to by the
poets under the name of Philomel, and this may be called
the classical name of the bird, because it is taken from Ovid,
a Latin poet, who tells a story about a human being who was
metamorphosed, or changed, into this sweet songster, which is
much more poetical than probable. However, some naturalists
have adopted the name, and say Philomela luscinia , and the only
explanation of the latter term we can give, is, that luscinia ,
in Latin, means a Nightingale. Motacilla , Sylvia , and Curruca ,
are also generic names applied by naturalists to this bird,
which is called in French Be.c-fin Rossignol , the latter term
having no other meaning, that we are aware of, than
Nightingale.

Such of my readers as have not yet heard the music of this
delightful songster, have indeed a treat in store. We wonder
not that old Izaak Walton should have exclaimed, when lis-
tening to its rich burst of harmony, “Lord ! what music hast
Thou provided for the saints in heaven, when Thou givest bad
men such music on earth?”

The chief haunts of the Nightingale are copses, shrubber-
ies, and thick hedge-rows, w'here it can be well screened
from view. It delights to be in the neighbourhood of running
streams, as it there finds the greatest abundance of insect
food: it returns year after year to the same spot, and delights
the same ears with its melodious song. Shame that so frequently
the trap and snare should deprive a whole neighbourhood of
this gratification; but so it is — the bird is easily caught, and
there are those who make a business of capturing the sweet
songster, and consigning it a prison for life.

The nest of the Nightingale, as Mr. Morris tells us “is
almost always placed on the ground, in some natural hollow,
amongst the roots of a tree, on a bank, or at the foot of a
hedge-row, though sometimes two or three feet from the surface;
it is very loosely put together, and is formed of various materials,
such as dried stalks of grasses, and leaves, small fibrous roots,
and bits of bark, lined with a few hairs and the finer portions

36

NIGE1TINGALE.

of the grass. It is about five inches and a half in external
diameter, by about three internally; and is about three and a
half inches deep/’

The eggs, which are laid in May, are rather large for the
size of the bird, being nine and a half twelfths of an inch
long, by seven-twelfths broad. They are four, five, or six
in number, of a regular oval form, and usually of an uniform
glossy dull olive-brown colour; sometimes they are tinged with
greyish blue, and some have more or less of green prevailing
in the ground colour, or mottling the surface. The young
birds are hatched in June, and are frequently seen hopping
about the ground in the neighbourhood of the nest, long
before they are able to fly. The poet Clare has so faithfully
and beautifully described the haunt and nest of the Nightingale,
that we are tempted to make a long extract.

“Up this green woodland ride let’s softly rove
And list the Nightingale — she dwells just here,

Hush! let the wood gate softly clap for fear
The noise might drive her from her home of love.
*********

We will not plunder music of its dower,

Nor turn this spot of happiness to thrall,

For melody seems hid in every flower

That blossoms near thy home. These harebells all

Seem bowing with the beautiful in song:

And gaping cuckoo-flower, with spotted leaves,

Seems blushing of the singing it has heard.

How curious is the nest; no other bird
Uses such loose materials: dead oaken leaves
Are placed without, and velvet moss within,

And little scraps of grass, and scant and spare,

What scarcely seem materials, down and hair;

For from men’s haunts she nothing seems to win.

Yet nature is the builder, and contrives
Homes for her children’s comfort, even here,

Where solitude’s disciples spend their lives
Unseen, save when a wanderer passes near
That loves such pleasant places. Deep adown
The nest is made, a hermit’s mossy cell;

Snug lie her curious eggs, in number five,

Of deadened green, or rather olive brown;

And the old prickly thorn bush guards them well.

So here we’ll leave them, still unknown to wrong,

As the old woodlands’ legacy of song,”

37

BLACKCAP.

BLACKCAP WARBLER. MOCK NIGHTINGALE.

FIGURE 22.

Scientific name, Motacilla, or Sylvia atricapilla, from ater,
black; and capillus , the hair of the head. We know an old
gentleman, who wears a short, crisp, round, black wig, whom
we never look at without being reminded of the Blackcap, he
has such a sharp knowing look, just like the bird has; we
never heard him sing, so cannot tell what his musical powers
may be, but if they are anything like those of the Mock
Nightingale, it would be worth going some distance to listen
to him; for this bird is, next to the real Nightingale, the
sweetest songster of the woodland choir, or, if not of the
whole choir, the sweetest of the Warbler family.

The question may here arise in the minds of our readers —
are not all song birds Warblers? If we take the common
meaning of the term warble, which is to sing — to utter musi-
cally, undoubtedly they are; but when we speak of Warblers
in Natural History, we mean a certain order or family of
song birds, which have certain common characteristics, and are
therefore grouped together, under the generic term Sylviadce.
A very interesting account of this Sylvia genus has been
written by Mr. Sweet, who paid great attention to their habits
and capabilities, especially in a state of confinement. These
are all what are called soft-billed, or insect-eating birds — the
most difficult of any to rear and preserve in health; they are
all more or less gifted with musical powers, and therefore
worth having considerable pains bestowed upon them. Let it
be understood, then, that when we speak of Warblers, we
mean birds of this genus, Sylvia .

The Blackcap, which the French Naturalist, Buffon, calls
Fauvette a tete noir — the Fauvette with the black head — gen-
erally arrives in this country about the middle of April, and
leaves again in September: some few, it appears, remain through
the winter. It is a bird of shy and retired habits, haunting
much the same spots as the Nightingale, although it is not so

38

GARDEN WARBLER.

local in its distribution as that bird, that is, it is more widely
and generally distributed.

The nest, which is built about the end of May, or beginning
of June, is made of dry grass and small fibrous roots, with some-
times a little hair and moss; spiders’ web and wool are also
occasionally used by the bird to make his structure, which is
a tolerably neat one; it is usually lined with hair, and placed
in a bramble or other bush, about two or three feet from the
ground; often in a currant or raspberry bush, of the fruit of
which the bird is very fond. The eggs are usually four or
five in number, of a pale greenish white, mottled with light
brown and grey, with a few spots and streaks of dark brown.
They have been found of a beautiful flesh or salmon-colour:
the size varies considerably.

The Blackcap she builds in the raspberry bush,

And a snug little nest she makes:

And sweetly her mate singeth near her — hush!

To those musical trills and shakes!

He has caught from the Blackbird his rich mellow tone,

From the Skylark the melody shrill;

And the notes of the "Woodlark, the Thrush, and his own
He varies and blends at will.

GARDEN WARBLER.

FAUVETTE. GARDEN FAUVET. GREATER PETTYCHAPS.

NETTLE-CREEPER.

FIGURE 23.

Scientific name, Motacilla , or Sylvia hortensis , from Hortus ,
a garden or orchard, such places being the chief haunts of
this sweet warbler, whose musical powers are nearly equal to
those of the Blackcap. It is a small plain bird of retiring
habits, and therefore attracts but little attention. It may be
found by those who search for it, in the groves, gardens,
thickets, and plantations all through the country, from the end
of April to the end of August.

Its nest is loosely constructed of coarse grass, sometimes

WHITETHROAT.

39

intermixed with wool and grass, and lined with fine fibrous
roots and hairs. The German naturalist Bechstein, says, that
in his country, the opening of the nest has a border of spiders’
web, or silk from the cocoon of some insect; and Mr. Morris
states that these substances are used here to attach the struc-
ture to the branches amid which it is built. The bird sometimes
builds on the ground, among tall grass or nettles, hence the
name Nettle creeper; sometimes in a thick low bush, or among
ivy stems against a wall, in which situation Mr. Jesse observed
a pair of these birds to build three times in succession. The
eggs are from four to six in number, nine-twelfths of an inch
long, by six and a half broad; the colour a dull greenish
white, dotted with light brown and grey.

The Garden Warbler generally rears two broods in a season ;
it lives chiefly on insects and worms, and soft pulpy fruit
like cherries, of which it is extremely fond.

WHITETHROAT.

GREATER WHITETHROAT. PEGGY WHITETHROAT. NETTLE- CREEPER.

WHEY BEARD. W H EETI E-WHY. CHURR. MUFF.

MUFFIT. MUFTIE. CHARLIE MUFTIE. BEARDIE. WHEATIE.

WHISKEY. BLETHERING TAM.

FIGURE 24.

Here is a choice of names, many of them more expressive
than elegant. We cannot doubt by the sound of some of them
that the bird is well known in Scotland, as it appears to be
throughout nearly the whole of Britain. It is perhaps the
commonest of the Warblers, and is called by naturalists Mota-
cilla, or Sylvia cinerea , from the prevailing tint of the plumage;
cinerea , in Latin, signifying ash-coloured. The Whitethroat,
which arrives in this country in April, and leaves it in Sep-
tember, frequents hedges, the outskirts of plantations, and
borders of woods, and any grounds where there are thickets
and brushwood, amid which it likes to build.

Its nest is wide, and loosely, yet strongly made, of dry

40

WOOD WARBLER.

grass-stalks and other plants, and lined with fine grass and
hair. The eggs are four or five in number, of a greenish white
ground colour, with spots and speckles of greenish grey and
brown. Two, and sometimes three, broods are reared in a sea-
son. Although generally very careful to conceal its nest, the
bird has been known to build in exposed situations, close to a
public road, or an occupied dwelling. Mr. Jesse mentions one
which built on a vine close to a window. Insects, worms,
slugs, and soft fruit are the food of this bird, which Macgil-
livray calls the White-throated Warbler.

WOOD WARBLER, OR WREN.

YELLOW WARBLER. YELLOW WILLOW WREN. LARGER WILLOW WTREN.

GREEN WREN. WILLIE MUFTIE.

FIGURE 25.

MotaciUa , or Sylvia sylvicola is the scientific name of this
elegant and interesting bird, as Sweet well terms it: the generic
name comes from the Latin words Sylva, a wood, and colo , to
inhabit. The French call the bird Bex-jin sifflear , from siffler ,
to hiss, whistle, or warble. This is a more gaily-tinted bird
than most of the Warblers, having a considerable quantity of
yellow and green about its plumage. Its period of arrival in
this country is from the middle of April to the middle of
May, and of departure therefrom about the end of September.
It is not a very uncommon bird, although there are some parts
of the country where it is rarely or ever seen. It inhabits
woods, thickets, and gardens, and seems to prefer the neigh-
bourhood of trees of large size.

It builds a domed nest of an oval shape, with a small hole
in the side for entrance, neatly interwoven with grasses, leaves,
and moss, and lined with fine grass and hair; it is generally
placed on the ground, and well concealed by thick herbage.
Mr. Sweet has found it in the stump of a tree. The eggs are
six or seven in number; eight-twelfths of an inch long, by six-
twelfths broad. The ground colour is white, thickly spotted
and speckled with purple, red, and grey.

WILLOW WARBLER.

41

This is entirely an insectivorous bird. It is very active,
and has a sharp shrill cry, resembling tzit-tzit! hence some
naturalists call it Sylvia sibillatrix , from the Latin sibilo , to
hiss: hence, too, our English word sibilous.

WILLOW WARBLER, OR WREN.

GROUND WREN. HAY BIRD. HUCK-MUCIv. WILLIE MUFTIE.

FIGURE 26.

Scientific name, Motacilla, or Sylvia trochilus , from Sylva ,
a wood, and trochilus , a Wren. This is a somewhat commoner
bird than the last, and is one of our earliest summer visitants,
generally arriving about the second week in April. Its favourite
places of resort are the borders of streams, where osiers, alders,
and willows best flourish; it is also frequently found in gar-
dens, and all kinds of thick bushy places, ' especially where
insects, its chief food, are most abundant. It builds a large
nest for its size, generally of a flattish oval form, but vary-
ing considerably in shape, according to the situation chosen.
The component materials are — outwardly, moss, fern, feathers,
and grass; inwardly, feathers and hair; it is pretty closely
woven, and the entrance is usually at the side.

The eggs, six or seven in number, are of a roundish form ;
in length, seven lines and a half; in breadth, six lines. The
colour varies considerably, but is most commonly a pinkish
white, with numerous small specks of pale rusty red. Purely
white eggs have been met with in the nest of this bird, which is
generally placed on the ground, and carefully concealed among
long grass, brushwood, or rank weeds: it is often to be found
in a bank, beneath a thick hedge, near a wood. The first
brood of young are hatched by the end of May or the begin-
ning of June; the second early in August.

42

CHIFF CHAFF.

LESSER PETTYCHAPS. LEAST WILLOW WREN. CHIP-CHOP.

HAY BIRD. ARBOUR BIRD.

FIGURE 27.

This bird bears a very close resemblance to' the Willow
Warbler; it is however somewhat smaller, and ,tlie wings are
more rounded; hence it is sometimes called the Short-winged
Wood Wren, by which name Macgillivray distinguishes it. Its
most common title is derived from its curious, but not unpleasing
song, of chiff-chaff, chivy -chavy ; which it utters while on the
wing, in pursuit of insects — its principal food. Bechstein calls
it the Arbour Bird, perhaps because it prefers to build in
thick leafy places. The French naturalist, Temminck, terms
it Sylvia rufa — one would think from rufus, red, but the bird
has little or no tinge of that colour about its plumage. Mo-
tacilla , or Sylvia hippolais is the more common scientific name;
the last word has been translated, “a bird called a Hedge
Sparrow/’ Bec-fin veloce is a French name for this bird, sig-
nifying swift — rapid.

The nest of the Chiff Chaff is very like that of the Willow
Warbler, of an oval shape, with the entrance generally at the
side. It is composed of various materials, but chiefly of dried
grass, moss, and dead leaves, and lined with feathers. The
eggs are commonly six or seven in number; seven-twelfths of
an inch long, by five and a half broad; the ground colour is
white, with very small dots and spots of purplish red or brown.
There are sometimes two broods in the year.

“Chiff-chaff! Chivy-chavy!”

What a funny little bird ;

Was there ever such a warble
In the woodland heard?

“Chiff-chaff! Chivy-chavy”

On the ear it comes again,

Faint and low, yet soft and pleasant
Is the gentle strain.

43

WREN.

COMMON WREN. JENNY WREN. KITTY WREN. JIMPO.

FIGURE 28.

Everybody knows the pert little Jenny Wren, with her
short cocked-up tail and sharp prying eyes; in and out of the
thicket she flits, up and down the garden walk, and over the
old wall and hack again, with surprising swiftness; now picking
a spider out of the crevice; now snatching a slug from the
earth; now feasting on seeds in the field; and now on fruit in
the orchard. She is here, and there, and everywhere, and she
has a sweet song of her own, too, full and melodious, and
astonishingly loud for such a little bird. Generally when on
the wing, or hopping about from place to place, she utters
a short sharp chit-chit! and have you ever seen her run up
a tree? not straight like a Woodpecker, but twisting round
it corkscrew fashion. Oh, she is a clever little climber, that
Jenny Wren! and she builds a nest big enough one would
suppose for two or three families diminutive as hers; large
and round like a ball, with a hole on one side. It is made
of almost anything that comes to hand — fern and moss, grass,
and small roots, twigs and hay are all pressed into the service
for the outer materials, but for the lining feathers are used —
soft and warm for the little Wrenlings to lie upon.

The situations chosen for building, vary as much as the
materials used; sometimes it is a hole in the earth; hence the
scientific name of the bird, Motacilla , or Sylvia troglodytes , the
last word being the name of a race of people who live in holes
or caves; sometimes it is placed against the trunk of a tree
at a considerable height from the ground; sometimes under a
bank; and in any case where the nest has to be supported at
the side or above, the portion to be attached to the supporting
object is begun first, and the rest of the fabric traced out, as
it were. Most birds build from the bottom of the nest, but
the Wren, so Rennie tells us, sometimes departs from this
rule, and seems to exercise a discretionary power which
approaches very near to reason.

44

WREN.

The following anecdote, taken from a very delightful hook,
called “A Journal of a Naturalist," by Knapp, will place the
sagacity of the Wren in a yet stronger light: — “The bird had
formed a hollow space in the thatch on the inside of my cow-
shed, in which it had placed its nest by the side of a rafter,
and finished it with its usual neatness; but, lest the orifice
of its cell should engage attention, it had negligently hung a
piece of moss on the straw work, concealing the entrance, and
apparently proceeding from the rafter; and so perfect was the
deception, that I should not have noticed it, though tolerably
observant of such things, had not the bird betrayed her secret
by darting out.

To shew what curious places the Wren sometimes chooses
for her nest, we may mention that Bechstein speaks of one
which he found in the sleeve of an old coat. The eggs of
this bird are generally of a white colour, dotted with light
red; eight-twelfths of an inch long, six-twelfths broad; they
are frequently as many as eight in number, and how this
small bird could manage to feed such a company of young,
has been a subject of surprise. An old naturalist named Bay,
ranks it among “those daily miracles of which we take no
notice." Wrens remain in this country the whole year through,
and in severe winters many of them perish. Bishop Mant,
in his poetical description of the British months, speaks of

“The quick note of the russqfc Wren,
Familiar to the haunts of men,

He quits in hollow’d wall his bow’r,
And thro’ the winter’s gloomy hour
Sings cheerily: nor yet hath lost
His blithness, chill’d by pinching
frost ;

Nor yet is forc’d for warmth to cleave

To cavern’ d nook, or straw -built eave.
Sing, little bird! Sing on, design’d
A lesson for our anxious kind;

That we, like thee, with heart’s
content,

Enjoy the blessings God hath sent;
His bounty trust, perform his will,
Nor antedate uncertain ill!”

The poet Wordsworth tells us that —

“Among the dwellings framed by birds
In field or forest, with nice care,

Is none that with the little Wren’s
In snugness may compare.”

45

GOLDOREST.

GOLDEN-CRESTED, OR CROWNED WREN.

GOLDEN-CRESTED, OR CROWNED KINGLET. MARYOLD FINCH.

TIDLEY GOLDFINCH.

FIGURE 29.

This is the tiniest of British, and indeed of European birds,
measuring not more than three inches and a half long, with
the tail, which is about one inch and a quarter, so there is
not much left for the body. Some naturalists call it Regulus
cristatus , which is as much as to say, a little king with a
crest; others Motacilla , or Sylvia Regulus; and others again,
Regulus auricapillus , or vulgaris; aurum in Latin means gold,
vulgaris common; and this understood, the reason of these
terms will be evident.

The lovely little Goldcrest may be found all over this king-
dom, and all the year through, but then he must be sought
for generally in the dim woods and leafy thickets, where
much of the bright sunshine cannot enter; and a pretty sight
it is to see him darting about here and there in search of
insects, his golden crest glittering like a speck of light.
Sometimes he ventures out into the open heaths among the
furze bushes, and now and then may be seen flitting amid
the rose trees and shrubs of the garden. His song, although
very sweet, is low and weak; and his common call-note resem-
bles the syllables tzitt, tzitt , uttered quickly; this is most
frequently heard towards sunset, as if he were warning his
friends of the approach of night.

He makes the prettiest little round nest imaginable, of moss
and lichens, willow-down, spiders’ webs, wool, fine grass, and
hair. I do not mean to say that he uses all these materials
at once, but he does use which ever of them comes most
readily to hand; and he weaves the nest very closely, and
lines it with soft feathers, and hangs it like a cradle to be rocked
to and fro by the wind, beneath the branch of a fir or some
other tree, most usually choosing an evergreen, as he builds
very early iu the year, and v7ould not find the necessary
shelter in other kinds. And — would you think it? — the saucy

4G

GOLDCREST.

little G-oldcrest is a thief; he has been known to watch the
Chaffinch, and slyly to abstract a portion of the materials which
that careful builder had collected for its own habitation.

But of all the funny little eggs that ever were seen, the
Goldcrest’s are the funniest; about as big as a good-sized
pea, and often of the same shape; the colour is reddish, or
brownish white of various shades; there they be, four, five, six,
seven, eight, aye sometimes as many as ten of them; all snug
and w'arm in the rocking nest. And when the young are
hatched, has not the little Goldcrest a ! busy time of it then?
Up and down, in and out they go, both father and mother,
scarcely two minutes being suffered to elapse without one of
them returning with a gnat, or a spider, or an ant’s egg, or
some such delicacy to that cradle full of noisy gaping bills.

And oh! what a courageous little bird is the Goldcrest! J.
T. Wilkinson, of Walsham Hall, Suffolk, relates that on one
occasion, when he ascended a fir tree in his orchard, to look
at a nest of this bird, the hen, which was sitting, defended
her charge with the utmost firmness and resolution, pecking
and flying at the intruder’s hand until he withdrew it. The
same authority speaks of a pair of these birds which built
their nest near the drawing-room window, and sat fast and
hatched their young, notwithstanding the noise of the piano
and other interruptions to which they were subjected. A hen
Goldcrest is also spoken of by Col. Montagu, which would feed
her young in a room, even when the nest was taken in the hand;
this bird went and returned with food about thirty-six times
in the hour, and worked away at this rate sixteen hours a-day.
Here was prodigious labour for one little weak bird; here was
prodigious destruction too, of insect life. Let us see, thirty-six
times sixteen make five hundred and seventy-six. Such an
industrious worker deserves a song, and he shall have one.

’Mid the shadow of the pines, flitting here and there,

Lo! the Golden-crested Wren glanceth through the air,

Like a fiery meteor, or a shooting star,

The tiniest of creatures that in the forests are.

Never still a moment — whisking to and fro —

Now amid the topmost boughs, now the roots below;

Now lie perks his feathers up, now he twinks his eye,

Now emits a warble low, now a short sharp cry.

GREAT TITMOUSE.

47

Lo! tlie Golden-crested Wren, he’s a happy bird,

Dwelling ’mid the solitude, where the boughs are stirred
By the gentle breezes, stealing in and out,

He their tuneful whispers understands, no doubt.

Soft and solemn music he hath ever near,

Like angelic yoicings from a better sphere;

Kind and tender greetings from his wedded love,

And the gentle cooings of the Cushat Dove.

Hath he not the Magpie, and the laughing Jay,

And the playful Squirrel — all to make him gay?

Pleasant sights and perfumes — hath he not all these,

And bright gleams of sunshine, breaking through the trees?

As the tufted pine cones sporteth he among,

Cometh not the Wild-Bee murmuring a song,

Where around his dwelling, tassels all of gold,

Make it like a palace gorgeous to behold?

When the tempest riseth, and the winds roar loud,

And the haughty pine trees unto earth are bowed,

Lo! secure he lyeth in his feathered nest,

Fearing nought of danger, — perfectly at rest.

Yes, he leads a pleasant life— doth the Crested Wren,

Far away from noisy towns, and the haunts of men;

If no duties bound me — were I free to ream —

Gladly would I visit him, in his sylvan home.

GREAT TITMOUSE.

GREAT BLACK-HEADED TOMTIT. BLACK-CAP. OXEYE.

SIT- YE- DOWN.

FIGURE 30.

This bird may be termed the king of the genus Pams, or
Tit family, of which we have several representatives in this
country; it has sometimes been called the Parus hortensis, or
Garden Tit, but to this distinction it is no more entitled than
any other member of its family circle, as all the Tits are fond
of seeds and buds, and therefore haunters of gardens. Parus
major ; the latter word signifying greater, is the scientific name
applied by nearly all naturalists to the bird, which remains
in this country all the year round. The name Oxeye, as well
as Sit-ye-down, has reference, Mr. Morris conjectures, to its
note bearing a supposed resemblance to these words; this is so

48

GREAT TITMOUSE.

loud, that it may be heard at the distance of half a mile; it
has also been likened to the sharpening of a saw.

The Great Tit wears a dress of yellow, and black, and blue,
and white, something like that of a harlequin, and his actions
correspond; no bird is perhaps so full of antics and strange
manoeuvres; it is in a state of incessant activity, and in its
search after insect food assumes all manner of extraordinary
positions; now hanging with its head downwards, now all awry,
twisting and wriggling about like a winged snake, if there were
such a thing, might be supposed to do. Up the trunk of the
tree he runs, in and out among the branches, down the other
side, peering into every hole and crevice; now dexterously
extracting a spider from its cell, now a worm from the bud,
and now a kernel from the nut; and now, to his shame be
it spoken ! with his strong sharp bill cracking the skull of
some poor helpless little bird, and feasting on the brains of
his victim.

The Great Tit is most frequently found in woods and
thickets, near to gardens and cultivated lands; it is an early
builder, and forms its nest of moss, feathers, leaves, and hair
loosely put together; the place chosen is generally a hole in

a tree or an old wall; sometimes the deserted nest of a Crow or

Magpie is used; and the eggs, which vary in number from six to
eleven, are of a pure white colour, irregularly spotted with reddish
brown: they have been discovered, in a decayed tree, on the dust
of the wood alone. This bird has been known to build in very
curious places, such, for instance, as a pump, both used and
unused, the place of exit and entrance being the orifice for

the handle; far up among the rafters of a house; in a win-

dow-frame, the opening for the weight being the door-way;
and in an inverted flower-pot.

The French call this bird Grosse Mesange , ou Gharbormiere —
the first word signifying great, the second Titmouse, the third
collier, or coal merchant.

49

BLUE TIT.

BLUE CAP. BLUE BONNET. BLUE MOPE. NUN. TOMTIT.

BILLY-BITER. HICK-WALL.

FIGURE 31.

Who that has been accustomed to traverse the English
woodlands, or to wander in the fields or roads near them, but
has frequently paused to listen to the shrill chicka, chicka , cliicka ,
chee, ch.ee, of the Parus cceruleus, as naturalists generally agree
to call the Blue Tit? and who that has caught a glimpse of the
lively little bird, but has admired its beautiful plumage of
cerulean tint, and agile movements, than wrhich nothing can be
more graceful and interesting. This is one of the commonest,
as well as the prettiest of the Tit family. Everybody knows
the little Tomtit, and everybody loves it, except the gardener,
who looks upon it as his greatest enemy, because it has a
habit of picking his buds to pieces — a bad habit certainly, but
then Tom' is looking for insects, many thousands of which he
destroys, and thus prevents far more ravage and destruction
in the garden than he himself commits.

The nest of the Blue Tit is composed of moss, grass, and
wool, and lined with hair and feathers. The eggs are from
six to ten or more in number; of a reddish white colour,
irregularly spotted with light red; the size is seven-twelfths
of an inch long, by six-twelfths broad. As many as eighteen
eggs have been found in the nest of this bird, which is gen-
erally placed in situations similar to those occupied by the
species last described, and sometimes in even more curious
places.

Speaking of one which built in the hollow of a pump,
Bishop Stanley says, “It happened that during the time of
building, and laying the eggs, the pump had not been in use;
and when again set going the female was sitting; and it was
naturally supposed that the motion of the handle would drive
her away; the young brood, however, were hatched safely
without any other misfortune than the loss of a part of the
tail of the sitting bird, which was rubbed off by the friction
of the pump handle.”

E

50

BLUE TIT.

Mr. Hewitson relates that once when out on an entomological,
that is insect-hunting, excursion, he broke to pieces the de-
cayed stump of a tree, within which a Blue Tit was sitting
upon fourteen eggs, on which she remained immoveable, until
forcibly taken off. He also mentions a pair of these birds,
which built their nest, hatched their eggs, and reared their
young, ten in number, in an earthen bottle, through the neck
of which, one inch in diameter, the birds had to pass in and
out. The bottle was fifteen inches deep, and one is puzzled
to imagine how the birds could manage to ascend through so
narrow an aperture. The Irish naturalist, Thompson, mentions
a similar case in an ornamental jar; and another is spoken of
by a Mr. Poole, in which the male bird used to feed the female,
while sitting, through the neck of the jar. But the strangest
place of all for this, or any other bird to build in, was within
the jaws of the skeleton of a man who had been executed for
murder, and was hung in chains: this was a grim kind of
habitation truly! but it had no terrors for the innocent birds.

When the nest of this bird is built in the trunk of a tree,
great pains are taken by the little architect to hollow out first
a convenient passage, and then an inner cavity for the nursery,
and this is all as smoothly done as if by the hand of a skilful
carpenter; it is said, too, that the chips are not left in a
heap, as they would naturally fall close to the spot, but are
scattered about, and some even carried to a considerable distance.
An instance of this kind is related by Mr. Saul, in the “Zool-
ogist,” that gentleman having watched the proceedings of a
pair of Blue Tits, while preparing the chamber for their young.

Nests of this bird, and others of similar habits, have been
found in trees apparently sound when taken to the saw-pit to
cut into planks: they must have been there a very long time,
for the entrance passage to have grown up again, and become
solid like the other wood. The Blue Tit frequently uses the
same nest year after year; it has been known to do so for twelve
successive years: we wonder what rent he paid to the landlord.

If, as is sometimes the case, two broods are reared in the
same year, different nests are said to be invariably used. This
is a bird of quality, and must have his spring and autumn
residences, forsooth !

51

LONG-TAILED TIT.

LONG-TAILED TITMOUSE, PIE, MAG, OR MUFFLIN.

BOTTLE TIT, OR TOM. LONG TOM. LONG POD. MUM RUFFIN.

HUCK-MUCK. POKE PUDDING.

FIGURE 32.

A beautiful bird, with a great string of ugly names, longer
than its tail, which tail is almost as long as its, whole body,
and distinguishes it from the rest of the Tit family. This
caudal appendage has moreover being laid hold of by naturalists,
who have found it a convenient handle, and so called the
bird Paras caudatus , meaning literally the Tit that has a tail,
as if the other Tits had no tail at all, or none worth speaking
of— a base libel this on the rest of the family.

The Mufflin is in truth an extremely beautiful and interest-
ing bird, with its snowy pate, throat, and breast, delicately
shaded off into grey, with a faint red flush, which deepens
as it spreads up the back, until it is lost in the glossy black
of the neck, extending from thence on either side of the head
to the bill in two broad streaks, that enclose the eye, and
give the bird a peculiarly quaint and knowing look. Black
and white are the wings and tail, looking like rich velvet, em-
broidered and edged with silver. Oh, it is a very beautiful bird;
and such a lively fellow too; his long tail seems no hindrance to
him at all; but he whisks about as the other Tits do — just
as if he had not one to carry. What he does with it in that
curious nest of his, shaped like a long bottle, one cannot ima-
gine, unless he pokes it up through the hole near the top,
which serves at once for door and window.

N o other English bird builds such a nest as the Bottle Tit :
what a huge affair it is ; and the shape of it, how preposterous !

It is generally from five to seven inches long, by three or
four wide, and looks, hanging beneath the branch of a tree, or
sticking close to the trunk, like a bundle of green or grey
moss, that has grown there, or accumulated by accident ; but
peep inside, and see what a soft downy chamber it is — lined
with feathers, aye, an inch thick, and quite waterproof : .
somebody took the pains to count how many feathers there
were in one of these nests, and found no less than two thou-

52

LONG-TAILED TIT.

sand three hundred and seventy-nine. Pretty good work that
for a pair of little birds to accomplish in a fortnight, when
the bleak winds of March were whistling through the nearly
naked woods. But it was a labour of love with them ; and
it is astonishing how much both birds and boys may do
when their hearts is in the work.

Some naturalists have said that the nest of this bird has
two openings, like a front and back door, but experience goes
to prove the contrary ; the cases are very rare in which such
a construction has been observed. The moss and lichens of
which the fabric is composed, are bound together, and fixed to
the tree, by means of spiders’ webs, and the silk spun by
moths and butterflies; frequently small fragments of bark and
pieces of wool are woven into it. The eggs are sometimes
entirely white, but generally spotted a little with pale red.
They are about the size of a pea, and vary in number from
ten to twelve; as many as sixteen have been found in one
nest, but this, it is supposed, was the produce of more than
one pair of birds; instances have occurred of several pairs
going shares in a single habitation.

Besides the three Tits which we have described, there are
in this country four other species belonging to the Tit family ;
these are the Cole Tit, ( Pants ater ;) the Crested Tit, (Pants
cristatus ;) the Marsh Tit, (Parus palustris;) and the Bearded
Tit, (Parus barbatus;) the last having a long tail like the
Muffiin, from which, however, it differs widely in the colour
of its plumage, and in many other important particulars; it
is often called the Least Butcher Bird, being thought by some
naturalists to resemble the Shrikes more than the Tits. To each
of these beautiful and lively birds, we should like to dedicate
a song, but our limited space not permitting this, we must
be content with one only, which must do for the whole family,
to the most common member of which it is addressed : —

The little Tomtit! The little Tomtit!

What a joyous bird is he!

And he loveth about in the sun to flit,

And to perch on the orchard tree:

When the shining buds begin to peep,

With his sharp tzit, tzit! and his shrill cheep, cheep !

From morn till night ’l is his to keep,

As busy as busy can be.

PIED WAGTAIL.

53

The little Titmouse! The little Titmouse!

What a comical fellow is he!

With his head awry, and his half-closed eye,

As much as to say — “I see;

I see the maggot within the green bud;

You cannot, although your sight may be good;

I’m sharper than you, for I’m searching for food;

And I’m hungry — very! chee , chee /”

The little Tomtit has a little black cap,

And Oh, such a twinkling eye !

And his tiny wings they go flip-flap,

And he utters his shrill sharp cry;

And he looks as proud as an eagle can,

That sits on a rock the sun to scan;

And he says to the gardener “Come, my man,
We ought to be friends, you and I!”

But the gardener likes not the little Tomtit,

For he sees the ground beneath

With buds bestrewn, and he vows at noon,

Ere night, to be his death.

But surely this is a cruel speech,

For a worm hath eaten the heart of each;

If the fatal shot should the poor bird reach,

’Tis the innocent suffereth.

PIED WAGTAIL.

WHITE, BLACK-AND-WHITE, WATER, OR WINTER WAGTAIL.

DISH-WASHER, PEGGY WASH-DISH.

FIGURE 33.

In scientific language, this bird has been called Motacilla
Yarrellii , after an English Naturalist named Yarrell ; it appears
to be the same species which Linnseus named Motacilla alba ,
or white; but as there is some doubt about this, we cannot
positively assert it. A well-known bird to the country people
of Great Britain generally, is the Peggy Wash-dish ; so called
we suppose, from its habit of frequenting the banks of running
streams, and other watery places. It has a slender elegant shape,
and a long tail, which it frequently flirts up in a very curious
manner while hunting for insects in the mud, as if afraid of
soiling it.

The Wagtail is a very active bird ; it runs with great swift-

54

PIED WAGTAIL.

ness, and flies from plaee to place with short flights, which
have a wave-like motion ; it frequently turns and returns, as
attracted here and there by the tiny winged creatures on
which it chiefly feeds. It also hovers over the water, skims
along the surface, and catches with great dexterity the min-
nows and other small inhabitants of the streams and ponds,
to which however, the bird by no means confines itself, being
frequently seen in the meadows and in the garden plots;
sometimes in the rick-yard or on the house-top, hunting for
flies. The name Wagtail is derived from a peculiar fanning
motion of the tail which the bird makes as if to steady itself
when it alights. Its note is little more than a short sweet
twitter, which is uttered very frequently.

The nest is composed of stems of grass, leaves, and small
roots, with a lining of wool, hair, and thistle-down, or feathers ;
it is loosely put together, and is placed in a great variety of
situations ; sometimes in a hole in a wall, or hollow of a tree ;
in a bank overhanging a stream, or under the parapet of a

bridge ; in the side of a hay, faggot, peat, or other stack ; it

has been found both in a grass and turnip field. Mr.

Jesse tells of one built in a workshop of a manufactory at

Taunton, near the wheel of a lathe, which was frequently in
motion; the shop was occupied by braziers, and there in the
midst of the din, sat the bird, and hatched and reared her
young. In a quarry close by where men were working, and
under the platform at the top of a coal-pit, with the trampling
of feet overhead, and the jar of the coals drawn up from below,
the parent Wagtails have been known to construct their nest,
and lay their five or six light grey or yellowish white eggs,
spotted with darker grey or brown, and measuring nine-twelfths
of an inch long, and seven-twelfths and a quarter broad.
They generally build about the middle of April, and sometimes
rear two broods.

Peggy, Peggy wash-the-dish !

By the sandy bank she sits,
Or across the stream she flits.
Catching, now and then, a fish;

Living ever by her wits,

"Who a merrier life could wish?

55

GREY WAGTAIL.

WINTER, OR YELLOW WAGTAIL.

FIGURE 34.

This is not so common a bird as the last, and therefore has
not been honoured with such a variety of popular names. It
is a very beautiful bird, the plumage of the breast and upper
part of the tail being of a bright yellow, hence its scientific
name, Motacilla sulphur eus, that is, sulphur-coloured. The
habits of this bird are much like those of the last ; it is,
however, somewhat more shy, and generally builds its nest
on the ground, although, like its pied relative, it sometimes
exhibits a curious taste in this matter, choosing at one time
the hollow of a spout, at another the shelf of an outhouse, or
the window-sill of a dairy, or the switches of a railway,
within two or three inches of every passing train. The eggs
are from five to eight in number, and usually of about the
same size and colour as those of the pied species, like which
too, they vary considerably in both these particulars.

The other Wagtails known in this country are the White
Wagtail, thought by some to be but a variety of the pied
species; the Grey-headed Wagtail, which naturalists call Motacilla
neglecta, or the neglected; and the Yellow Wagtail, ( Motacilla
jiava ;) they are all much alike in their habits, and form a
most interesting family group of birds.

“At hand,” says Bishop Mant, “I greet
The nimble Wagtail’s brisk te-wheet !”
But whether ’tis the Wagtail Grey,

Or Pied, the Bishop does not say.

Nor matters it, although it be
One other of the family;

For all are brisk, and full of glee,

And whether Hitting in the sun,

Or here and there they nimbly run,
They are a pleasant sight to see.

56

TREE PIPIT.

PIPIT. FIELD, LESSER FIELD, MEADOW,

GRASSHOPPER, LESSER-CRESTED, SHORT-HEELED FIELD, OR
TREE LARK. FIELD TITLING.

FIGURE 35.

This is a migratory bird, arriving in England near the
latter end of April, and leaving us again in September. Its
food consists of flies, caterpillars, grasshoppers, worms, and small
seeds. It has a sweet low warble of its own, with but little
variety in it, something like tzee , tzee, tzee , often repeated.
Some naturalists call the bird Alauda trivialis , the first word
signifying a Lark, and the last the same as the English word
trivial, that is, small, insignificant ; others term it Antkus
arboreus , that is, a little bird, or a Pipit, belonging to trees.

The nest of this bird is placed on the ground amid woods
and plantations, generally sheltered by a tuft of grass, or the
rank herbage of a hedge-row, or a flowery bank ; Mr. Neville
Wood found one fixed in the lower branches of a small thick
bush. The materials used in the construction are mosses,
with fibrous roots and dried grass ; fine grass and a few leaves
form the lining: it measures about three inches across, and
the sides are about an inch in thickness. The eggs, four or
five in number, are generally of a pale greyish colour, with
a faint tinge of purple, and spots of purplish brown or red;
the colour, however, varies greatly, as does also the size, the
average of which appears to be seven-twelfths of an inch in
length, by nine twelfths in breadth.

The Tree Pipit builds in a tuft of grass,

Surrounded by hedge-row flowers,

And his days of sunshine merrily pass,

Or there in woodland bowers:

And he stays not till winter strips the tree;

For the Pipit— a wise little bird is he !

57

MEADOW PIPIT.

TITLARK. TITLING. MEADOW TITLING. PIPIT, OR MEADOW LARK.

MOSS CHEEPER. GREY CHEEPER. LING BIRD.

FIGURE 36.

This is a more common bird than the last, and , remaining
with us the whole year through, is of course better known ;
for as adversity tries and shows the character of man, so
does the season of cold and scarcity reveal most fully the
habits and instincts of the wild creatures. Everywhere through-
out Great Britain is to be found the Anthus or Alauda pratensis ,
the Meadow Pipit or Lark, and in all kinds of situations :
hill or valley ; marsh or moorland ; shady woods, and meadows
open to the sunshine, are alike the home and pleasure-grounds
of this little olive brown bird, with the whitish speckled breast,
and sharp restless eye. On the summits of the highest mountains;
in the depths of the deepest valleys ; on the sandy sea shore,
and far inland, where the solemn sound of the rolling billows
is never heard; in the near neighbourhood of busy towns, and
away in the wilderness, where the foot of man seldom intrudes,
amid the gorse, and the ling, and the purple heather, and the
tall waving grasses, the Titlark sings its cheerful song, soft
and musical, though, like its namesake of the tree, but little
varied. Peep-peep! it goes, while hovering over its nest on
the wing, or alighting with a gentle sweep on a low bush or
a rail, where it stands awhile, flirting its tail about like a Wagtail
Peep-peep , then Peep-pit — Pipit — as if calling its own name. If
alarmed, it utters a sharp trite, tritz! and flies off, sometimes
with apparent effort, as if wounded, to entice the intruder
from its nest, which is placed on, or close to, the ground, and
is composed of dried grass, lined with finer grass and a few
hairs ; sometimes a little moss is used in the construction.
The eggs are from four to six in number, and scarcely any
two sets are exactly alike in colour; sometimes the ground
tint is reddish brown or reddish white ; sometimes a yellowish
brown; and sometimes a pale blue or grey; in all cases they
are mottled and marked with deeper brown, especially near the
larger end: the average length is nine-twelfths of an inch;
breadth seven-twelfths.

58

MEADOW PIPIT.

This bird shares with the Hedge Sparrow the honour, if
such it may be called, of most frequently hatching and rearing
the young of the Cuckoo. The Irish naturalist, Thompson,
relates a remarkable instance of sagacity with reference to the
Titlark, as the bird is perhaps most commonly called, which
we ought to quote here. It is to the effect that a nest being
found by some truant boys at the side of a drain in a field,
was by them deprived of the grassy covering which concealed
it. On visiting the spot the day after the occurrence, it was
found that a quantity of withered grass had been laid regularly
across the nest, so as completely to hide it ; this was removed,
and out flew the bird. On the next day again the grass was
found similarly placed as before, and beneath it was a small
aperture by which the little architect made her entrance and
exit ; she had clearly done her best to repair the mischief, and
screen her nest from observation. Moss Cheeper is the name
by which this bird is generally known in Ireland, the term
having reference to the moss or peat covering the ground
which it mostly inhabits, and also to its call note — Cheep!
This name also applies to it in Scotland, and in some parts of
Ireland it is called Wekeen, referring probably to the double
ee sound of its note.

Besides the Meadow and Tree Pipits, which are frequently
confounded, there are three other species of British birds which
are commonly placed in the Anthus or Pipit genus : these are
Pichardos Pipit, (Anthus Ricardi,) a rare and beautiful bird,
very like a Lark • the Red-throated Pipit, (Anthus montanus ,)
pertaining to mountains, also rare ; and the Rock Pipit, (Anthus
aquaticus,) from aqua , water, because it frequents watery places ;
this is by no means an uncommon bird, and also closely resem-
bles the Larks, to which the Pipits are nearly allied.

The Mead Pipit tarries the whole year through,

Like a firm and steadfast friend;

When the gales are soft, and the skies are blue,

When the blasts are keen, and the black clouds bend
Over the earth; the bird is near,

With his cheerful note to gladden the ear.

59

SKY LAKE.

LAVEROCK. FIELD, OR COMMON LARK.

FIGURE 37.

What a striking proof is it of the goodness of the Great
Creator of the universe, that everything which is most beautiful
and loveable, and pleasing to the senses, is also common ; the
bright warm sunshine, the cool fresh breezes, the lovely shapes,
the rich hues, and delicious perfume of flowers, and a hundred
other sources of innocent enjoyment, are all common. Every
day and every hour we may listen to the melody of birds,
and, as the American poet says, may

“Go abroad, rejoicing in the joy
Of beautiful and well-created things.”

The woods are full of music, and there is nothing to pay for
hearing it, for it is common to all ; the streams that glide
sparkling in the sunshine, every thirsty lip may drink of them;
and the daisies and buttercups — nature's gold and silver — every
child may gather them, and grow rich with the treasures; of
the earth. And up in the air there sings the Lark — sings
all over the land, and all day long, and a great part of the
year through, the commonest of feathered songsters, and per-
haps the very sweetest; at all events the most cheerful and
gladsome of any. Let my young readers, then, never despise
common things, for as we said before, they are the most
beautiful and loveable.

This Sky Lark, now — this Alauda arvensis , or Lark of the
Fields, as the naturalists call it — up he springs, while the morning
dew lies fresh upon the grass, and he soars and sings “as if
he had learned music and motion from an angel," so says
one of our old divines, named Jeremy Taylor, and we only
wish we had space to repeat to our readers one-tenth, or one-
hundredth, part of the beautiful things that have been said and
sung about this plain little sober-coloured common bird, the
Sky Lark, which builds its nest upon the ground in the corn
or the hay field, or in the open pasture; just a little withered

60

SKI LARK.

grass loosely put together, and lined with some finer fibres,
placed in a hollow, and but slightly shrouded from observation,
containing four or five eggs of a greenish grey colour, freckled
over with light brown; some ten and a half twelfths of an inch
long, by eight and a half broad ; and if these are not crushed
by the careless foot, or broken by the mower’s scythe, or
taken to be threaded on a string by the truant schoolboy —
shame upon him for the deed ! — out of them will come in due
time, a choir of songsters that will one day sing at Heaven’s
gate, as Shakspere has it, and fill the air with melody.

But let not my readers think that the Lark is sent upon
earth only to please the ear : from every object in nature,
even the most dull and inanimate, high and holy lessons are
to be learned; and this bird has been especially dwelt on by
poets and moralists as one that teaches many such lessons as
a pious and humble mind would gladly receive. Thus Young,
in his “Night Thoughts,” tells us that —

“Pride, like the Eagle, builds among the clouds,

While pleasure, Lark- like, nests upon the ground.”

And James Montgomery, classing together the two sweetest
feathered songsters, says —

“The bird that soars on highest wing,

Builds on the ground her lowly nest;

And she that doth most sweetly sing,

Sings in the shade when all things rest;

In Lark and Nightingale we see

What honour and humility.”

The Sky Lark generally rears two broods in ine year, the
young of the first being fledged by about the end of June, and
the second late in August, or early in September. It is related
by Mr Blyth that on one occasion, when some mowers had
shaven off the top of the nest of this bird, without injuring
the parent, she sat fast while they levelled the grass around
her, and in about an hour afterwards it was found that she
had constructed a dome of grass over the nest, leaving an
aperture on one side for ingress and egress. Several instances
are upon record qf the Sky Lark’s having moved; its eggs and
young to a safer spot, when danger threatened them, the long

WOOD LARK.

61

claws of the bird enabling it to do this without much apparent
difficulty.

Any one who has noticed the upward flight of the Lark
has observed that it ascends spirally, that is, as if it were
following the windings of an invisible corkscrew; up it goes,
soaring and singing, until it becomes a mere speck in the air
where the dazzled eye can scarcely follow it, and if we were
to search the ground, in a direct line beneath this musical
mote in the sun, it is likely that the nest might be found,
with the hen bird sitting upon it, listening to the voice of
her mate, who will presently come down straight, as if drawn
by a string, to that home of love and happiness so well
described by the Scottish poet Grahame: —

“On tree, or bush, no Lark is ever seen:

The daisied lea he loves, where tufts of grass
Luxuriant crown the ridge; there, with his mate,

He founds their lowly house of withered bents,

And coarsest speargrass; next, the inner work
With finer, and still finer fibres lays,

Bounding it curious with his speckled breast.

How strange this untaught art! it is the gift,

The gift innate of Him, without whose will,

Not even a sparrow falleth to the ground.”

WOOD LARK.

FIGURE 38.

This is the Alauda arborea of most naturalists; the Alouette
lulu of the French, so called, we are told, from a singularly
mournful cry which it utters in winter, resembling the syllables
lu-lu long drawn out : the meaning of the Latin phrases our
readers will understand, having had them before explained.
Alouette is the French for Lark. This bird is a very sweet
songster, but it chiefly sings in retired, woody places, and has
a plaintive, rather than a loud song. It is not nearly so plen-
tiful as the Sky Lark, and in some parts of the country is not
found at all.

It builds its nest on the ground, beneath a bush, or behind
a tuft of grass, of the same materials as its soaring relative,

62

BUNTING.

with the addition of a little hair, and lays four or five eggs
of a pale greenish white ground, spotted and speckled with dull
reddish brown: they are nine-twelfths of an inch long, by
seven-twelfths broad. April and July appear to be the most
usual months when the eggs are laid, there being frequently
two broods in the year. Mudie thinks that the reason why
Wood Larks are not so numerous, in proportion to the number
of eggs laid, as most other species, is that they build in so
inclement a season, and on barren exposed places, so that they
are frequently destroyed.

BUNTING.

COMMON, OR CORN BUNTING. BUNTING LARK.

FIGURE 39.

The Buntings form a sort of connecting link between the
Larks and Finches ; they are strong, hardy birds, with no great
powers of song, and feed upon insects, seeds, and grain.
Naturalists have placed them in a family group, under the
generic term Emberiza; the specific name of the Common
Bunting is miliaria, because it feeds much upon millet. It is
found in most parts of this country, and in the Scottish Islands
is generally called the Sparrow. Its note is harsh and unmu-
sical, consisting of the syllables chack, chit, uttered rapidly.
Flocks of these birds congregate in the winter about the stack-
yards, and help themselves freely from the corn ricks.

They generally build their nest in April, placing it on the
ground, or but slightly elevated above it, amid long grass, or
in a low bush, or beneath a bank. It is composed of small
roots, straws, and grasses, and lined with the finer parts of
the same materials, with some moss and hair : it is large,
thick, and somewhat shallow, tolerably neat in appearance,
although by no means closely woven.

The eggs are generally four in number, rarely five or six;
they are of a blunt oval shape ; ten and a half twelfths of an
inch long, by about eight-twelfths broad; the ground colour
is usually greyish white, streaked and spotted with purple
and brown of various shades.

63

BLACK-HEADED BUNTING.

RING, REED, OR PASSERINE BUNTING.

REED, WATER, OR MOUNTAIN SPARROW. RING BIRD, OR FOWL.

BLACK BONNET. CHINK.

FIGURE 40.

The scientific name of this bird is JEmleriza schoeniclus , the
latter term meaning a water-bird, probably, says Mr. Morris,
from scoinus , a rush. This, and several of its popular names,
point out the situations in which we are to look for the
Black Bonnet, and we find in the latter term a sufficiently
evident mark of distinction. Bing Bird refers, we suppose, to
the white ring round the neck, which in the cock, for the
hen has a brown pate, contrasts beautifully with the glossy
black covering the top and sides of the head. This Bunting
is by no means an uncommon bird here, and it may somtimes
be seen far away from the streams and marshy places, which
it commonly frequents, and where its nest is usually placed
on the ground, among coarse grass, weeds, sedge, or rushes;
sometimes it may be found in a furze, or gorse bush, at a
considerable distance from the water ; and it has been discovered,
though not often, supported on a mass of matted reeds, just
over the water, at an elevation of, perhaps, two feet or so.

The nest is composed of grass and fragments of rushes, lined
with the down of the reed, a little moss, fine grass, or hair.
The eggs are four or five in number, of a pale purplish,
greenish, or brownish white, agreeably spotted with a darker
shade of the same ; they are of a longish oval form, tapering
off finely at each end; they are nine and a half twelfths of an
inch long, by seven* and a half broad, and are generally laid
about the first week in May : a second brood is sometimes
produced in July.

Mr. Salmon, of Thetford, a contributor to “The Magazine of
Natural History,” relates that, walking in the spring of the
year among some rushes, growing by a river, his attention was
arrested by observing a Black-headed Bunting shuffling through
the rushes, and trailing along the ground, as if one of her legs
or wings was broken. He followed her to see the result,

64

YELLOW-HAMMER.

•

and the bird having led him to some considerable distance,
took wing; no doubt much rejoiced to find her stratagem
had been successful in preserving her brood, consisting of five
young ones, which he afterwards found by the side of a clump
of grass, which almost screened it from view. This artifice
is frequently resorted to by birds to lead intruders from their
nests. Several such instances are mentioned in our little work,
and many more might be quoted to shew the care and solici-
tude of the feathered creatures for the safety of their young.
There is no prettier sight in nature than to watch the Black -
headed Buntings flitting about among the slender reeds and
velvet-headed rushes, which bend and sway too and fro as the
birds cling to them, and open and shut the feathers of their
tails quickly, so that the white portions flash upon the view
for a moment like a gleam of light, and are gone again.

YELLOW-HAMMER.

YELLOW BUNTING. YELLOW Y ELD RING, YOLDING, OR YOWLEY.
YELLOW' YELDROCK, YOLKRING, YOIT, OR YITE. SKITE. DEVIL’S BIRD.

FIGURE 41.

We have already seen that there is some very ugly names
applied to very pretty birds, but surely our beautiful and well-
known Yellow-hammer has the ugliest of all : what could
possess people to load it with such a string of harsh and
disagreeable epithets? The scientific name of the bird is soft
and pleasing enough — - Emberzia citrinella; it glides out of the
mouth without any effort, and falls upon the ear with a mu-
sical cadence; not so, however, does the note of our golden-
plumed friend — a harsh chit , chit, chirr, gradually ascending,
until it becomes quite a shriek. In Scotland it has been
translated into JDeil, Veil, Deil taJce ye! addressed, it is sup-
posed, to those who plunder the bird of its eggs or young;
and hence the most disagreeable of the above names. We are
not learned in bird language, but hardly think this can be
the right rendering; such language could never surely come

YELLOW-HAMMER.

65

out of an innocent bird’s beak, however much excited by rage
or sorrow.

Yellow-hammers we have all seen, and all admired; there
is not a road-side hedge, along which you can walk, but out
of it one or a pair of them will occasionally fly; and the nest,
you may be sure, is not far off. It is rather a bulky affair,
somewhat loosely built of moss, small twigs, roots, and hair —
the finer materials forming the lining; it is placed on a bank,
beneath a bush, or in a clump of grass. The eggs are of a
pale purplish white colour, streaked and speckled with dark
reddish brown; that is, generally, for they vary considerably,
having been found of a pale stone-colour, and even white, with
delicate markings, like fine marble. They are in length about
ten-twelfths of an inch; in breadth, eight-twelfths; in number,
four or five, occasionally six. The young are seldom able to fly
before the second week in June: two broods are sometimes
reared.

Mr. Thompson relates that in the garden of a friend of his
near Belfast, a pair of these birds built their nest at the edge
of a gravel walk, and hatched four young ones, three of which
were destroyed; when the nest being removed to a place of
greater safety, the old birds still kept to it, until their last
nestling was able to fly. Mr. Salmon found one of these nests
at the height of seven feet from the ground, in a broom tree;
and Mr. Hewitson another at the height of six feet in a
spruce fir. Grain, and the seeds of grasses and other plants
form the principal food of this bird, whose specific name
citrinella , is derived from citrus , a citron or lemon tree, probably
on account of the colour of its plumage.

The other Buntings known in this country are the Snow
Bunting, ( Emberiza nivalis ,) a very beautiful bird, found chiefly
in the north; the Lapland Bunting, or Finch, (E. lapponica,)
an extremely rare species with us; the Cirl Bunting, (E. cirlus, )
distinguished by its black throat, also rare; and the Ortolan
Bunting, ( E . hortulana,) Trom hortus , a garden, a bird with
orange tawny breast, of which only a few specimens have been
taken in Great Britain. It is thus that Clare describes the
nest of the Yellow-hammer : — •

66

CHAFFINCH.

“Just by the wooden bridge a bird flew up,

Scared by the cow-boy as he scrambled down
To reach the misty dewberry. — Let us stoop
And seek its nest. The brook we need not dread —
’Tis scarcely deep enough a bee to drown,

As it sings harmless o’er its pebbly bed.

— Aye, here it is ! stuck close beside the bank,
Beneath the bunch of grass, that spindles rank
Its husk-seeds tall and high: — ’tis rudely planned
Of bleached stubbles, and the withered fare
That last year’s harvest left upon the land, —

Lined thinly with the horses’ sable hair.

Five eggs, pen scribbled o’er with ink their shells,
Besembling writing-scrolls, which Fancy reads
As Nature’s poesy and Pastoral spells —

They are the Yellow-hammer’s, and she dwells,

Most poet-like, ’mid brooks and flowery weeds.”

CHAFFINCH.

SHILFA. SCOBSY. SHELLY. SHELLY.

SHELL-APPLE. CHAFFY. BOLDIE. TWINK. SPINK. PINK. FINK,
BEECH, AND HORSE-DUNG FINCH.

FIGURE 42.

Here again we have a long array of names, some of them
sounding very like terms of endearment, for which they were,
no doubt, intended; some of reproach; several of them have
reference to the various call-notes which the bird utters, one
of these being a shrill Jink, fink! another a more low and
somewhat lingering treef \ tree. fi. Shilfa is a term more used
in Scotland than elsewhere; and other of the names are em-
ployed only in certain localities. Naturalists call the Chaffinch
Fringilla coelebs , meaning a Finch that is a bachelor, because,
they say, that during a part of the year the male birds
leave the hens, and live altogether apart from them. This
bird is not naturally a brilliant songster, although it is a very
sweet one; yet by a careful system of training it may be made
almost to rival the Canary, and others of the best feathered
musicians of the cage and aviary. In Germany, from whence
we get the greater part of our well- trained song birds, there

CHAFFINCH.

67

are regular schools where Chaffinches are systematically taught.

The Chaffinch is in every way a neat and handsome bird,
well dressed, and well proportioned — a very pink of a bird;
this, perhaps, is the reason why he is sometimes called a Pink;
and, like most of the Finches, he is, too, a very neat builder.
A Chaffinch’s nest, built under favourable circumstances, is a
perfect model of what a bird’s nest should be, — round and
compact, and closely woven, without any loose ragged material
sticking about it, to spoil the uniformity of the clear outline. It
is generally composed of moss, interspersed with various coloured
lichens, so as best to accord in colour with the situation in
which it is placed; sometimes grasses, stalks of plants, and
small roots are used; sometimes the lining is wool; at others,
hair or feathers, thistle-down or spiders’ webs, or, in short,
any suitable substance which comes readily to hand, or claw
and beak, as we should rather say. But whatever the material
may be, the little architect is sure to work it in neatly, and
make a good job of it. The situations chosen for building are
as various as the materials; sometimes the nest is fixed in a
bush, or a hedge-row, or between the branches of a fruit tree,
especially one which is trained up a wall, between which and
the tree the nest is generally placed.

A correspondent of “The Field Naturalist’s Magazine,” relates
that a pair of Chaffinches built in a shrub so close to the
window of his sitting-room, that he could observe their oper-
ations. The foundation of the nest was laid on the 12th. of
April; the female only worked at it, and by great diligence
the beautiful structure was finished in three weeks. The first
egg was deposited on the 2nd. of May ; four others were after-
wards added, and the whole five were hatched on the 15th.
During the time of sitting the male often visited his partner,
but it was not observed that he brought her food; she sat
steadily and patiently, quite undisturbed, as it appeared, by
the constant observation to which she was subjected from
the open window.

A gentleman, who writes to the editor of the “Zoologist,”
says, “One of the oddest circumstances that I can recollect
about birds is, that a pair of Chaffinches annually built their
nest in an old pear tree, and placed it upon a branch, over-

68

SPARROW.

hanging a walk, so low, that it was often struck by the heads
of passengers;” and this reminds us that the Shell -apple, as
the bird is called from this circumstance, is very fond of picking
to pieces the buds of the pear and apple trees, no doubt like
the Tomtit, for the sake of the insects which he finds therein.
The Chaffinch’s eggs are in shape a well-formed oval, nine-
twelfths of an inch long, by six broad; the colour is usually
a dull bluish green, clouded with dusky red, the two tints
sometimes running into each other.

Graharae gives us a pretty picture of this bird in its wood-
land retreat, which we are tempted to set before our readers.

“At such a still and sultry hour as this,

When not a strain is heard through all the woods.,

I’ ve seen the Shilfa light from off his perch,

And hop into a shallow of the stream,

Then, half afraid, flit to the shore, then in
Again alight, and dip his rosy breast
And fluttering wings, while dew-like globules coursed
The plumage of his brown-empurpled back.

The barefoot boy, who, on some slaty stone,

Almost too hot for touch, has watching stood,

Now thinks the well-drenched prize his own,

And rushes forward; — quick, though wet, the wing
Gains the first branches of some neighbouring tree,

And baulks the upward gazing hopeless eye.

The ruffling plumes are shook, the pens are trimmed,

And full and clear the sprightly ditty rings,

Cheering the brooding dam: she sits concealed
Within the nest deep-hollowed, well disguised
With lichens grey, and mosses gradual blent,

As if it were a linurle in the bough.”

SPAKROW.

COMMON, HOUSE, OR DOMESTIC SPARROW.

FIGURE 43.

This very commonest of common birds must be well known
to all our readers. A bold familiar bird, be hops about our
path, both in summer and winter, and takes, without waiting
for an invitation, a share of whatever he finds eatable. We
cannot feed our pigs, or our fowls, or our pigeons, but we
feed the Sparrows also, and their chirpings are never out of our

SPARROW.

69

ears; neither should the thought be out of our minds that He
who, as the Scripture tells us, feeds the Ravens, and suffers not
a Sparrow to fall to the ground unnoticed, is ever near to mark
our doings, and to punish or reward us according to our desert.

Every idle nest-pilferer knows the colour of the Sparrow’s
eggs, and where they may be found; but as we trust that we
are not addressing such, we think it well to give some slight
description of them. The colour of the eggs generally is a
dull light grey, much spotted and streaked all over with ash-
colour and dusky brown; these markings vary greatly in different
eggs, but a general resemblance may be traced: ten-twelfths
of an inch long by seven-twelfths broad is the average size.
The nest is rather bulky, composed of straw, grass, leaves,
twigs, and the like, with a lining of hair, wool, or feathers;
it is not very neatly put together, and is placed in some elevated
position, in any convenient cavity, such as a hole or crevice
in a wall, an orifice in an old water-pipe, a space beneath the
eaves of tiles or thatch. Five or six is the usual number of
eggs, and three broods are often reared in one season. Were
not the Sparrow so prolific a bird, one would think that it
would long since have become extinct, for constant war is
waged against it, and truly a price is set upon its head,
under the impression, as we think a mistaken one, that it is
a most mischievous bird to the husbandman and the gardener.
That Sparrows consume a considerable quantity of grain and
seeds, and do some injury to the fruit, we do not mean
to deny, but there isfplenty of evidence to prove that they
also destroy an immense number of destructive insects, sufficient
at least to balance the account which man has against them,
if not to make him considerably their debtor.

This question has been repeatedly argued; and among others,
Mr. Hawley, of Doncaster, has taken up the cudgels in defence
of our persecuted chirper of the house-top. In the “Zoologist,”
he thus states the case : — “I have watched pairs of Sparrows
repeatedly feeding their young, and have found that they bring
food to their nest once in ten minutes during at least six
hours of the twenty- four, and that each time from two to six
caterpillars are brought. Now, suppose that the Three thou-
sand five hundred Sparrows’ destroyed by the ‘Association

70

SPARROW.

for killing Sparrows’ were to have been alive the next spring,
each pair to have built a nest, and reared successive broods
of young, during three months, we have, at the rate of two
hundred and fifty thousand per day, the enormous multitude
of twenty-one millions and sixty-eight thousand larvae prevented
from destroying the products of the land, and from increasing
their number from fifty to five hundred fold.”

It seems then, after all, that the sadly-maligned Sparrow
is a bird more sinned against than sinning. Many very curious
anecdotes illustrative of the sagacity and other remarkable
qualities of the Sparrow are related by naturalists, and especially
in Mr. Morris’s “History of British Birds” do we find such
results of a close observation of the habits and manners of the
F ring ilia or Passer domestica given at great length.

“Who killed Cock Robin?

‘1/ said the Sparrow,

‘With my bow and arrow,

And I killed Cock Robin.’ ”

This is a stigma upon the character of our feathered friend
which ought to be removed. Putting out of sight the absurdity
of supposing him capable of using a bow at all, we may remark
that Cock Robin is a much more fierce and quarrelsome bird,
and, to say the least, as likely to kill, as be killed by, the
Sparrow, which is a spirited bird, too, when there is occasion
for the display of valour.

Among the curious places chosen by the Sparrow to build,
we may mention the lion’s mouth over Northumberland House,
at Charing Cross, London ; but London Sparrows are such des-
perately impudent birds; they seem to care for nothing. Amid
the carved foliage of the stately Corinthian column, or behind
the projections of the fretted frieze-work of the royal palace,
even, do these dingy denizens of the smoky city make their
habitation, and chirp away as noisily as in the straw-built
thatch. Beneath the roof that covers “the collective wisdom
of the nation,” as the English Parliament is called, or above
the grand door-way of that noble old Abbey of Westminster,
close by, there are the Sparrows chittering and chattering, and
quarrelling about the possession of an angol’s wing, or a grim
demonical face for a roosting-place.

71

GREENFINCH.

GREEN LINNET. GREEN GROSBEAK.

FIGURE 44.

Fringilla , or CoccotJiraustes chioris is the scientific name of
this bird; the first term meaning a Finch; the second being
derived from coccos, a berry, and thrauo , to break; and the
last signifying light green, properly the colour of young grass,
— in allusion to the prevailing tint of the plumage of the bird,
which, like all the Finches, is handsome and stoutly built.
It is by no means uncommon in this country, where it continues
all the year round, collecting into flocks in the winter, and
resorting to the farm-yards for the sake of the grain stored
there.

The Greenfinches generally begin to build in April: a com-
pleted nest has been found as early as March 26th. Small
roots, twigs, moss, and straws form the outer materials, and
the same of finer texture, with thistle-down, feathers, and
hair, the inner. The building-sites selected are various — some-
times it is a low bush, or an evergreen; sometimes the ivy
against a wall; and not unfrequently the forked branches of
a fruit tree,; whose buds are sure to undergo a careful exam-
ination for spiders lurking within. The eggs, from four to
seven in number, are of a bluish or reddish white, spotted
with purple, grey, and dark brown; some are much more
covered with markings than others; they are nearly eleven-
twelfths of an inch long, and about eight broad, and taper
considerably at one end. According to Neville Wood, this
bird pays remarkable attention to its young, and if they are
taken, flutters about the hand of the person who does the
mischief, and strives to prevent it. One of its favourite nesting
places, if Bishop Mant is correct, is a pine tree: he says,

“A cradle for the Greenbird’s bed,

And bowery covert o’er her head.

A forked pine supplies.”

72

GOLDFINCH.

THISTLE FINCH. GOLDSPINK.

GOLDIE. KING HARRY. RED-CAP. PROUD-TAIL.

FIGURE 45.

Carduelis elegans is the scientific name of this most beautiful
and musical of Finches; from car duusy a thistle^ of the downy
seeds of which the bird is very fond; the meaning of the
second, or specific name, we need hardly explain, its resem-
blance to an English word most applicable to the Goldfinch,
rendering it sufficiently plain. Master Goldie is, in truth, an
elegant fellow, alike in shape and dress; and he seems to
know it, too. King Harry himself bore not his honours with
a prouder air; his are royal robes, and right royally does he
wear them; and yet he is a sprightly bird, and very affable,
as greatness should be, and therefore he is a universal favourite;
loved and admired by all, whether he be caged or free. Would
you see him in his glory, go out on a bright autumnal day,
to some waste ground, where thistles are plentiful; there he
is, flying from clump to clump, clinging to the prickly stems,
picking out the downy seeds, and feasting to his heart’s con-
tent, and twittering his lively notes to express his satisfaction.
How the gold of his throat and wings gleams in the sunshine,
finely relieved by the glossy black of the top of the head, and
neck, tail, and upper and lower parts of the wings; the pale
brown of the back shines like satin, and the intense crimson
above and beneath the eyes glows like a ruby. How sprightly
are all the motions of the bird, and how graceful ! Who that
could see it thus, in the full enjoyment of liberty, would
like to have it shut up in a close cage? let the bars be ever
so bright with gilding, they are but prison bars to him. He
may be very cheerful, and perform a number of amusing tricks,
such as drawing up water and seed in his tiny bucket. He
may sing till he makes the place of his confinement echo again,
for sing he must, whether in freedom or captivity. But only
give him a chance of escape, and see how gladly he will fly
away to the green woods and the flowery meadows.

Did my readers ever hear what Geoffrey Chaucer, who has,

GOLDFINCH.

73.

been called the father of English poetry, said upon this subject?
Hear his lines —

“Take any bird, and put* it in a cage,

And do thy best and utmost to engage
The bird to love it; give it meat and drink,

And every dainty housewife can bethink;

And keep the cage as cleanly as you may,

And let it be with gilt never so gay;

Yet had this bird by twenty thousand fold,

Eather be in a forest wild and cold,

And feed on worms, and such like wretchedness:

Yea, ever will he tax his whole address,

To get out of the cage when best he may,

His liberty the bird desireth aye.”

Macgillivray calls this bird the Red-fronted Thistlefinch, and
in France it is termed Chardonneret, from Ghardon , a thistle.
It feeds principally upon seeds of what is called the composite
order of plants, most of which have a downy substance attached
to them, like those of the plant above named and the ground-
sel. In spring the Goldie or Goldspink, as the Scotch call
him, picks the seeds out of the fir-cones, and feasts upon
them. He begins to sing his sweet and varied song about the
end of March, and continues it for four months or so. The
nest of the bird, which Bolton says is completed in three days,
although it is very neatly and carefully finished, is composed
externally of grass, small twigs and roots, moss, and lichens;
internally of wool and hair, the down of the willow and other
plants, and sometimes a few leaves or feathers, all closely
interwoven. The eggs, four or five in number, are bluish
white or light grey, slightly spotted and occasionally streaked
with greyish purple and brown; they are nine-twelfths of an
inch long, by six and a half broad. Two broods are usually
reared in the year. Grahame shall tell us where the nest is
usually placed. —

“With equal art externally disguised,

But of internal structure passing far
The feathered concaves of the other tribes,

The Goldfinch weaves, with willow down inlaid,

And cannach tufts, his wonderful abode.

Sometimes, suspended at the limber end
Of plane-tree spray, among the broad-leaved shoots,

The tiny hammock^ swings to every gale;

74

LINNET.

Sometimes in closest thickets *t is conceal’d;
Sometimes in hedge luxuriant, where the brier,
The bramble, and the crooked plum-tree branch,
Warp through the thorn, surmounted by the flowers
Of climbing vetch, and honeysuckle wild,

All undefaced by Art’s deforming hand.

But mark the pretty bird himself! how light
And quick his every motion, every note !

How beautiful his plumes! his red-tinged head;
His breast of brown: and see him stretch his wing ;
A fairy fan of golden spokes it seems.

Oft on the thistle’s tuft he, nibbling, sits,

Light as the down; then, ’mid a flight of downs,
He wings his way, piping his shrillest call.”

LINNET.

COMMON, BROWN, GREY, RED -BREASTED, ROSE, OR WHIN LINNET.

GREATER REDPOLE. LINTIE.

FIGURE 46. ■ !

A very different bird in appearance from the last, is the
plain little Brown Linnet, a sober- coloured bird generally, al-
though its plumage changes considerably at different periods,
and frequently there is a beautiful rose-coloured flush, diffused,
as it were, over nearly the whole surface, but especially shewing
itself on the breast, top of the head, and middle of the back
and wings; it always seems to us as if the gentle bird were
blushing at the praises which its fine voice and good qualities
call forth. A very sweet songster is the Linnet, and a very
pretty interesting bird, although not so showy as most others
of the Finch tribe, to which it properly belongs. It possesses
great imitative powers, and from its docility may be easily
trained and taught; it is therefore highly valued as a cage
and aviary bird. Its scientific name is Fringilla , or Linarici
cannabina , derived, says Morris, from linum , flax; and canna ,
a cane or reed. The reason of the first term we can well
understand, as the bird feeds much on the flax seed ; but we
are at a loss to account for the second, as there seems no sort
of natural connection between the habits or food of the bird,

LINNET.

75

and the aquatic plants from which the specific name is said
to come.

The favourite haunts of the Linnet, which is a permanent
resident in this country, are the wild hilly tracts, where the
gorse, or whin, the broom and the heather, grow abundantly,
as well as the plants upon whose seeds they chiefly feed: there
they find both food and shelter, and are seldom disturbed by
the presence of man. In the winter, however, they assemble
in flocks, and betake them to the cultivated grounds, where
they are destroyed in large numbers, being snared or shot,
like the Finches and Larks, for the sake of their flesh.

Small twigs and stalks of grass, intermixed with moss and
wool, and lined with feathers and hair, compose the nest of
the Lintie, or Lintwhite, as this bird is called in Scotland,
where it is perhaps more plentiful than in the southern parts
of the island. It is a neat structure, and is commonly placed
on one of the low shrubs or bushes which grow upon the
moor and mountain side; sometimes it may be found among
the tall grass or heather; and sometimes, though rarely, in a
tree, ten or twelve feet from the ground. The eggs usually
number from four to six; they measure about nine-twelfths
of an inch long, by six and a half broad; the colour is usually
a bluish white, spotted most thickly at the larger end, with
purplish grey and reddish brown. Some have been found of
a dull dark red colour, without spots, and some of a pure
white.

The poet Darwin will furnish us with a few lines descriptive
of the nest of this bird.

“The busy birds with nice selection cull
Soft thistle-down, grey moss, and scatter’d wool;

Far from each prying eye the nest prepare,

Form’d of warm moss, and lined with softest hair.

Week after week, regardless of her food,

The incumbent Linnet warms her future brood;

Each spotted egg with ivory bill she turns,

Day after day with fond impatience burns;

Hears the young prisoner chirping in his cell,

And breaks in hemispheres the fragile shell.”

7G

LESSER REDPOLE.

LITTLE REDPOLE LINNET.

FIGURE 47.

This is a much smaller bird than the common Linnet, to
which, in many respects, it bears a close resemblance. Natu-
ralists call it Fringilla Unarm , or Linaria minor , that is the
Flax Finch, or the Lesser Flax-bird. In the north of England,
Ireland, and Scotland, it resides throughout the year, but only
appears in the south during the autumn and winter, except
occasionally and rarely. It is a pretty lively bird, very
nimble and active, like the Titmouse, assuming a great variety
of curious attitudes, when hunting for food, among the birch
and alder trees, which it chiefly frequents. The great American
naturalist says that few birds display a more affectionate dis
position than this, and tells us how pleased he was to see
several on a twig, feeding each other by passing a seed from
bill to bill. They breed chiefly in the hilly districts, like the
Linnet, and build their nests in a low bush or tree, or among
the heather on the ground ; it is formed of moss, grass, stems,
and willow catkins, the last, and also feathers, being used for
the lining. The eggs, four or five in number, are of a pale
bluish green colour, spotted with brown. The young are hatched
late, and are seldom ready to fly before the end of June, or
beginning of July.

The following lines by Grahame will apply as well to this
as to the last species : —

“When whinny braes are garlanded with gold,

And, blithe, the lamb pursues, in merry chase,

His twin around the bush; the Linnet,” then,

Within the prickly fortress builds her bower,

And warmly lines it round, with hair and wool
Inwove. Sweet minstrel, may’st thou long delight
The whiner know, and broomy brae, and bank
Of fragrant birch! May never fowler’s snare
Tangle thy struggling foot!”

77

BULLFINCH.

COAL-HOOD. RED-HOOP. TINY-HOOP. ALP. POPE. NOPE.

FIGURE 48.

This is rather a handsome than an elegant bird; the shape
is somewhat clumsy, but the plumage exceedingly rich and
striking. We need not describe it, as all our readers must
have seen the large-bodied, red-breasted, and black -hooded
Finch, called by naturalists Z(m« pyrrhula, or Pyrrhula vulgaris;
the first term signifying oblique or transverse, from the shape
of the bill ; the second a bird with a red plumage, from pyrros ,
red; and the third, vulgaris , common.

The Bullfinch is more especially a bird of the greenwood;
it is not much found in either very barren or very highly-
cultivated districts, although its retreats are not generally far
from the latter. It delights to dwell amid the chequered shade
of interlacing boughs, from whence it can sally out to some
near-at-hand orchard or garden, to feast upon the ripe fruit,
or the blossom buds of various trees, such as the apple, pear,
cherry, medlar, gooseberry, or the plum. Mr. Morris conjectures
that the common name of this bird is a corruption of Budfinch,
or Boodfinch, as it is pronounced in the north. Besides fruit,
this Finch feeds on the seeds and leaves of groundsel and
other weeds, hips and haws, and various kinds of berries.

The natural song of the Bullfinch is a short, sweet, plaintive
piping, while giving utterance to which it generally flirts up
the tail in a very curious manner. Probably, says Morris, its
vernacular, that is, common, names Nope, Hoop, Pope, are
derived from its resemblance to these sounds. In spring, while
the hen is sitting on her nest, the male bird will pour out for
hours together, a low and broken warble, as it would seem,
to cheer and enliven her labours, and while doing so, he keeps #
pufling out his feathers, and wriggling his head about in a most
extraordinary manner, no doubt to shew his affection. The
Bullfinch is a very teachable bird; he learns to pipe and whistle
tunes, and even to articulate words. Some of the birds so
taught fetch high prices; they are chiefly brought from Germany.

78

BULLFINCH.

Our Bully generally commences housekeeping at the beginning
of May; he chooses perhaps a fir tree, perhaps a hawthorn, or
some other thick bush, “and there he makes his home,” at a
height, generally, of not less than four or five feet from the
ground. He is not so neat a builder as are nearly all the
other members of his family; the materials he uses are twigs,
fine roots, and moss. The eggs, four or five in number, are
of a pale blue, speckled and streaked with purplish grey and
reddish brown; they are nine and a half twelfths of an inch
long by seven and a half broad. Bullfinches frequently build
in shrubberies and gardens; a gentleman residing at Frickley
Hall, near Doncaster, relates that a hen bird of this species,
which was sitting in a laurel near the house, suffered herself
to be touched, and would feed from the hand without any
manifestation of fear.

Numerous other anecdotes might be related to shew how gentle
and docile a bird this is, but we must now bring our agreeable
task to a conclusion. Ere long we shall have another talk
with our young readers about birds, or some other of the
various creatures which the all-wise and good God has seen
fit to create for the use, enjoyment, and instruction of man.

FINIS.

INDEX.

Golden Eagle .

Peregrine Ealcon
Kestrel ....
Sparrow-Hawk .

Barn Owl ....
Bed-backed Shrike .
Spotted Elycatcher .

Dipper

Missel, or Mistle Thrush
Song Thrush .

Blackbird ....
Bing Ouzel ...
Dunnock .

Bedbreast

Bedstart ....

Stonechat

Whinchat

Wheatear

Sedge Warbler

Beed Warbler .

Kightingale

Blackcap

Garden Warbler

Whitethroat

Wood Warbler

40

Willow Warbler

41

Chiff Chaff . . .

42

Wren

43

Goldcrest ....

45

Great Titmouse

47

Blue Tit ....

49

Long-tailed Tit .

51

Pied Wagtail .

53

Grey Wagtail

55

Tree Pipit

56

Meadow Pipit .

57

Sky Lark ....

59

Wood Lark

61

Bunting ....

62

Black-headed Bunting

63

Yellow-hammer

64

Chaffinch . . . .

66

House Sparrow

68

Greenfinch .

71

Goldfinch ....

72

Linnet

74

| Lesser Bedpole

76

Bullfinch .

. 77

1

4

6

8

10

12

14

16

17

19

21

23

24

25

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

37

38

39