346 Habits of the Dovecot Pigeon. 



man would condescend to cultivate it. Were I " close pent 

 up in the social chimney corner," on some dismal winter's 

 evening, with an attentive " Eugenius " by my side, I would 

 show him the cause of shyness which exists betwixt the birds 

 and us ; and, amongst other things, I would prove to him that 

 no bird ever anticipates the return of man to the vicinity of 

 its nest, by the supposed act of removing its " young to new 

 quarters." The pretended discovery of this reasoning quality 

 in birds may be just the thing to raise the writer in the esti- 

 mation of the editor of the American Quarterly ; but it won't 

 go down here in England. 



Our ancestors generally built their dovecots in an open 

 field, apart from the farm-yard ; fearing, probably, that the 

 noise and bustle occasioned by the rustic votaries of good 

 Mother Eleusina might interrupt the process of incubation, 

 were the dovecots placed in the midst of the buildings dedi- 

 cated to husbandry. 



Birds very soon get accustomed to the sounds of civilised 

 life, be they ever so loud, except those which proceed from 

 the discharge of a gun ; and even those, in some few cases 

 of extreme hunger, will not deter a famished wild bird from 

 approaching the place where nutriment can be found. How 

 unconcernedly the daw sits on the lofty steeple, while the 

 merry chimes are going ! and with what confidence the rooks 

 will attend their nests on trees in the heart of a town, even 

 on the busy market day ! The report of fire-arms is terrible 

 to birds; and, indeed, it ought never to be heard in places in 

 which you wish to encourage the presence of animated nature. 

 Where the discharge of fire-arms is strictly prohibited, you 

 will find that the shyest species of birds will soon forget their 

 wariness, and assume habits which persecution prevents them 

 from putting in practice. Thus, the cautious heron will take 

 up its abode in the immediate vicinity of your mansion ; 

 the barn-owl will hunt for mice under the blazing sun of 

 noon, even in the very meadow where the hay- makers are at 

 work ; and the wigeons will mix, in conscious security, with 

 the geese, as they pluck the sweet herbage on your verdant 

 lawn ; where the hares may be seen all day long, now lying 

 on their sides to enjoy the warmth of the sun, and now en- 

 gaged in sportive chace, unbroken-in-upon by enemies, whose 

 sole endeavour is to take their lives. 



Walton Hall, Yorkshire, April 12. 1836. 



