1g901-1902.] The Folk-Lore of Natural History. 339 
its beak towards that point of the compass from which the 
wind blew. 
“But how now stands the wind ? 
Into what corner peers my halcyon’s bill ?” 
—Marlowe. 
THE LAPWING. 
“Far from her nest the lapwing cries away.” 
—‘“ Comedy of Errors,” Act IV. se, ii. 
The dolorous cry of the lapwing, called in Scotland the 
peeseweep, has attracted the attention of children, and is 
embodied in one of their rhymes as 
“Peeseweep, peeseweep, 
Harry my nest and gar me greet.” 
Tannahill, regarding it as a foreboding sign of evil, says,— 
“The peeseweeps scraichin’ o’er the spunkie’s cairn.” 
In certain parts of Scotland there is an antipathy to this bird, 
and it is held as unlucky on account of its having served in 
persecuting times to point out the retreat of the Covenanters 
who had sought refuge in the wilds. 
“ The lapwing’s clamorous whoop attends their flight, 
Pursues their steps where’er the wanderers go, 
Till the shrill scream betrays them to the foe.” 
BARNACLE GEESE. 
As long ago as the twelfth century we find the story that, 
somewhere in the Orkney Islands, there grew certain trees 
that produced at the end of their branches small swelled balls, 
containing the embryo of a goose suspended by the bill, which 
when ripe fell off into the sea and took wing. The old wood- 
cuts illustrating this story are very amusing. Boece, the oldest 
Scottish historian, denies this story, but says they are pro- 
duced in the form of worms in the substance of old trees or 
timber floating in the sea; and he gives a circumstantial 
account of their appearance. In connection with this old 
superstition, it is a curious fact that, in spite of the many 
modern scientific and exploring expeditions, the real breeding 
haunts of the barnacle goose have never been discovered. It, 
