but admirably calculated for securing a steady footing on slippery stones, whether above or beneath the surface of the water.

The sonorous song of this extraordinary bird startles the ear as it comes mingled with the hoarse tones of the torrent, or the rushing of the wintry waterfall, sometimes in the midst of a snow-storm. Mr. Rennie, who remarks that it is one of the few birds that are vocal so early in the year as the months of January and February, heard it on the 11th of the latter month in a hard frost, when the thermometer in the morning had been at 26°, sing incessantly in a powerful and elegant style, with much variation in the notes, many of which were peculiar to itself, intermingled with a little of the piping of the Woodlark. The day was bright, whilst it was singing, but it was freezing in the shade; and the sun, which had considerably passed the meridian, was obscured from the songster by the lofty surrounding hills. The same author declares that the Dipper consumes a considerable quantity of fishes' spawn, and, especially, of the ova of the salmon. Bechstein, who also notices its winter music, alleges that it sings, moreover, in the night.

The nest is as curious as the bird that makes it. In shape it a good deal resembles that of a Wren, having a dome or roof, but it is not so deep. Externally it is formed of water-plants, or closely-interwoven moss: within there is a lining of dry leaves. The access to the hollow chamber is through an aperture in the side. It is often placed in some mossy bank overhanging the stream,

"Where the lady-fern grows longest;"

and has been detected under a projecting stone forming part of a cascade, and behind a sheet of falling water. Through this liquid glassy curtain the bird darted to its home. The eggs, from four to six in number, are white, and pointed at the end; and, wherever the nest is placed, such care is taken by the old birds to assimilate its hues to those of the locality, that, large as it is, the most acute eye is often unable to detect it. There is an excellent vignette of the Dipper's nest in Mr. Yarrell's delightful History of British Birds."*

This Water Blackbird is not uncommon in Scotland, nor in the North and West of England. In Wales and Ireland it frequently occurs. Mr. Yarrell mentions one which was seen at a watermill, near Wyrardisbury, on the Colne, about two or three hundred yards above the place at which that river falls into the Thames, just below Bell Weir, well known to the angler who

* 8vo. London. Van Voorst.

goes after the great trouts. The bird, he adds, has also been seen on the Mole, near Esher, and in Essex; but it is seldom found in the counties near London.

Next in order comes the Missel Thrush,* la Draine of the French, and Misteldrossel of the Germans. Perched on the top of the yet leafless tree, he pours forth his loud and oftenrepeated strain of melancholy, but musical cadences,—

"While rocking winds are piping loud,"

amid all the meteoric rudeness of February. The advent of the storm is hailed by him in notes of more than ordinary power; and so remarkable is this habit, that it has obtained for the bird, in many counties, the name of Storm Cock. Self-possessed and daring, this, one of the largest of the British Thrushes, will suffer hardly any animal to approach its haunts during the season of incubation : hence the Welsh call him Pen y llwyn, the head or master of the coppice: for he will not tolerate the presence of any thievish Magpie, Jay, or Crow, but drives them from the spot with loud cries. So pugnacious are both the sexes at this period, that the hen bird has been known to fly at the face of man when he has disturbed her while sitting. White acknowledges the success with which the Missel Thrush frequently repels the invader; but he once saw in his garden at Selborne a sad exception to the general rule. Several Magpies came down in a body, determined to storm the nest of the poor Missel Thrushes, who, defended their mansion with great vigour, and fought resolutely pro aris et focis; but numbers at last prevailed; they tore the nest to pieces, and swallowed the young alive."

66

The food of the Missel Thrush consists of slugs, worms, insects, &c., with no small addition of berries, among which that of the misseltoe (whence its name) is a decided favourite. The nest, which is begun in April, is generally placed in the fork of a tree, sometimes carefully concealed, but, at others, remarkably exposed: it presents externally a mass of coarse stems of plants, moss, withered grasses, and lichens. Within, it is stuccoed with mud or clay, which is again lined with delicate dry grasses, on which are laid four or five eggs more than an inch long, generally of a greenish white spotted with ruddy brown, but the colour occasionally varies to pinkish or reddish white, mottled with dark red-brown hues. The bird, though plentiful nowhere, is not uncommon anywhere in Britain, and is to be found in most of the counties near the metropolis; we have seen and heard it frequently at Fulham.

*Turdus viscivorus.

Brisson named the Song Thrush,* Throstle, or Mavis, the Small Missel Thrush, and, indeed, it is very nearly a miniature resemblance of the last-mentioned species. But this admirable musician, to which the English and Germans have given a name expressive of its melodious pipe, goes far beyond the Missel Thrush, or, indeed, any of the tribe in Britain, in its vocal powers. From early spring, throughout the summer months, even until the autumn, this charming songster delights the rural inhabitants of this island, more especially in the morning and towards the close of day. It generally chooses the top of a high tree for its station, and we have sometimes thought its music most perfect after a genial shower on a fine warm spring evening, when the young foliage was glittering with the rain-drops, and not a breath of air disturbed the direct upward column of gray smoke rising from the neighbouring cottage.

Like all powerful song-birds, this thrush often seems to articulate words distinctly. We have heard one express, in the course of its singing, sounds which fell on the ear as if it were repeating the words "My dear-my pretty dear-my pretty little dear.' These accents were not caught up by one listener alone, who might, perhaps, have been deemed a little imaginative; but all who heard them were struck by the resemblance.

This charming species is widely spread, and has been traced eastward as far as Smyrna and Trebizond. It was evidently one of the birds that ministered to the absurd wantonness of the Roman voluptuaries in their olios of brains and tongues of singing birds. Even at the present day, as we learn from a distinguished ornithologist of that country, it is considered among the Italians as "molto grato agli Epicurei." The luscious grapes and figs on which it there feeds are said to impart a most exquisite flavour to its flesh, which seems well appreciated by the ex-maître d'hôtel of Pascal Bruno's friend, the Prince Butera, when the accomplished artist treats, with all the solemnity due to the high importance of the subject, of his Grives à la broche, au genièvre, and à la flamande.‡ There is, it is true, no accounting for tastes, and we would speak with all reverence for discriminating palates; but some may think that all taste, save that for the pleasures of the table, must have vanished, before the gourmand can sit down with gratification to his dish of Song Thrushes.

The Throstle has been seen sitting on her eggs as early as the third week in January. The first brood, however, rarely makes its appearance before the beginning of April. The nest is

* Turdus musicus, Linn. The Germans call it Singdrossel. The Prince of Canino and Musignano.

In "Le Cuisinier des Cuisiniers."

generally hidden in the midst of some tall bush green moss and delicate roots form the outside; and within it is coated with a thin smooth plastering, in which decayed wood is often an ingredient, so well laid on as to hold water for some time. In this cup-like receptacle the female deposits four or five eggs of a beautiful pale blue, scantily spotted with black at the larger end. It appears, from a contributor to Mr. Loudon's " Magazine of Natural History," where will be found many pleasant anecdotes of animals and much interesting zoological information, that both sexes participate in the duties of incubation. The author of the memoir alluded to, who watched the progress of the nest, states that, when all was finished, the cock took his share of the hatching; but he did not sit so long as the hen, though he often fed her while she was upon the nest. The young were out of the shells, which the old ones carried off, by the thirteenth day.

The "Ousel Cock" may be thought too common to require notice; and yet some of our readers may not be aware that, glorying in its prodigality of voice and revelling in its mimicry, it has been known to crow like a cock and cackle like a hen. The power and quality of tone of the blackbird* is first-rate, and for these he is justly more celebrated than for execution or variety of notes. His clear, mellow, fluty pipe is first heard in the early spring, and his song is continued far into the year, till the time of moulting. He rejoices in the moist vernal weather, and is heard to the greatest advantage when

"The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard,

By those who wander through the forest walks."

The thickest bush is generally selected for the nest, which is matted externally with coarse roots, and strong, dry grass stalks or bents, plastered and mixed internally with earth, so as to form a kind of cob-wall. Fine grass stalks form the lining on which repose the four, five, or even six light-blue eggs, most frequently mottled with pale rufous brown, but sometimes spotless. The first hatch takes place about the end of March or beginning of April. This species, the Schwarzdrossel of the Germans, Merlo of the Italians, and Merle of the French and Scotch, is widely and abundantly diffused. It has been recorded by Temminck as far eastward as the Morea, and Mr. Darwin noticed it as far west as Terceira, one of the Azores: but this is no place for a lecture on the geographical distribution of birds. Albinos are not very

uncommon.

The fruit consumed by the Blackbird and Song Thrush is well

* Merula vulgaris-Turdus Merula, Linn.

repaid, not only by their music, but by the good they do to the garden in destroying slugs and shell-snails. Besides their natural notes, these Merulida may be educated so as to sing an artificial song, and even articulate. Dr. Latham relates that the tame Blackbird may be taught to whistle tunes and to imitate the human voice; and Pliny tells us of the talking Thrush, “imitantem sermones hominum," which was the pet of Claudius Cæsar's Agrippina. The Hon. Daines Barrington quotes another sentence from the same chapter and book of Pliny to show that the young Cæsars had a Thrush, as well as Nightingales, eloquent in Latin and Greek. The talking Thrush belonging to Agrippina we admit; but we suspect that the learned Thrush of the "Cæsares juvenes" was no more than a starling; and, indeed, "sturnum' is the word in the Leyden edition (1548).

The Larks, those brilliant vocalists, next claim our notice, and with the Sky-Lark or Lavrock* we begin. Fear not, reader; there is no description coming of the variety of the intense gushes, the prodigal outpourings of this Ariel of song, as he mounts till the eye can no longer follow him, though the ear still drinks his wild music. We are not in a frame of mind for such attempts; we have just read those beautiful lines that close the most soul-stirring of all biographiest-lines describing, with all the touching fervour of a holy poetry, the affecting incident that made its way to the hearts of the mourners when they laid in the earth the daughter of the great and good Sir Walter

"The minstrel's darling child."

Who, after reading that mournful and thrilling page, will not denounce the sacrilege of depriving the sky-lark of his liberty?

Of all the unhallowed instances of bird-incarceration, (not even excepting the stupid cruelty of shutting up a Robin in an aviary,) the condemnation of the Sky-lark to perpetual imprisonment is surely the most repugnant to every good feeling. The bird, whilst his happy brethren are carolling far up in the sky, as if they would storm heaven itself with their rush of song, just at the joyous season

"When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear,"

is doomed to pine in some dingy street. There, in a den with a solid wooden roof, painted green outside, and white, glaring white, within—which, in bitter mockery, is called a Sky-lark's cage, he

* Alauda arvensis.

+ Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. by J. G. Lockhart, Esq., his literary executor.