128 BIRDS OF THE WATER 



Never almost is he to be found at rest, 

 for even perched on a bough, he cannot 

 remain quite still, but will sidle along its 

 length, jumping from side to side drooping 

 his wings to their full stretch, or trailing 

 and scraping them like a gobbling Bubbly- 

 jock. 



The little bird never remains for any- 

 time in the air, always after an instant or 

 two alighting, before again he flutters off. 

 Although, however, of so mercurial a 

 temperament and though so peculiarly a 

 bird of the air, sometimes he is still and 

 sometimes his little claws touch earth. 

 Usually he takes small account of strangers 

 near his nest, yet on occasion I have seen 

 him still as a statue, crouched up and 

 glowering almost as if prepared to dash 

 forth in defence. Then in late spring 

 sometimes I have watched him on the 

 ground, hopping about and feeding on a 

 little moth sheltering among the withered 

 fronds of water polypod. Often it is a 

 sheltered glade that holds him, where the 

 wind hardly blows, where shadows have 

 their edges soft, and grasses droop at 



