BIRD-NESTING. 617 



responded to by the wail of the Lapwing, and the melancholy 

 whistle of the Golden Plover. Already have these birds de- 

 posited their eggs on the moor, in which they have scraped a 

 slight hollow for the purpose of receiving them. Should you 

 come upon one of their nests, you will admire the arrangement 

 of its four pear-shaped and spotted eggs, the narrow ends of 

 which meet in the centre. Among the tufts of furze and sloe 

 hops the lively Ring Ouzel, newly arrived from the warmer 

 region in which it has passed the winter ; and by the pebbly 

 margin of the pool flits the delicate Sandpiper, whose body is 

 continually vibrating as if on a pivot. 



It is the busy season of nature. What myriads of flowers 

 are silently expanding, what rills of vegetable juices are as- 

 cending the stems to the topmost twigs, what mighty pre- 

 parations, without confusion or bustle, are making to secure 

 an abundant produce of fruit and seed for the support of ani- 

 mal life ! How beautiful the brooding mystery of that happy 

 Raven, seated on her nest to impart vital warmth to her newly- 

 fledged young, while her mate croaks in joy on the projecting 

 crag, ready to sally forth and drive away the prowling hawk 

 that may chance to come near his ancient seat, the castle of 

 his sires. For weeks might one wander among those wooded 

 glens, finding each hour some fresh object to excite admiration, 

 and warm his^^bosom with the glow of gratitude toward the Su- 

 preme Power which out of nothing has called all these wonders 

 into being. But at present we are mere strolling naturalists, 

 bent on collecting nests and eggs. Hard-hearted mortals ! — 

 Nay, is it cruel to slaughter the unoffending sheep, hook the 

 deceived 'cod from the depths of the salt sea, scrape up the 

 " gentle oyster " from his stony bed, or hunt the innocent rab- 

 bit from his hole with the blood-thirsty ferret ? No, it will be 

 said, all this is necessary, and more ; but to gather eggs merely 

 for their shells is not only cruel but childish. You may with 

 propriety pick up those of the Lapwing and send them to 

 market, whence they will be transferred to the kitchen ; but 

 to collect them as objects of curiosity, as food for the mind, is 

 little better than sacrilege. Be this as it may, the ornitholo- 

 gist must gather eggs ; and therefore a few words as to their 

 preservation may not be amiss. 



