308 THE COMMON WHITETHROAT. 



The Common Whitethroat. 



(Motaeilla Sylvia.) Linn. (Curruca Cinerea.) Bechst. 



" I saw spring return, and could rejoice 

 In common with the children of her love 

 Piping on boughs, or sporting on fresh fields, 

 Or boldly seeking pleasure nearer heaven 

 On wings that navigate cerulean skies." — Wordsivorth. 



This loquacious, blustering bird is much more common than 

 the last two, so common as to be called beardy, blethering Tam, 

 Peggie whitethroat, muffle chauther, &c, and seems more 

 numerous than it really is from its garrulous habit of singing, or 

 " blethering," openly on almost every hedge by the roadside, 

 ostentatiously swelling out its little throat and erecting the 

 feathers on its head like a muff — hence its name of muffie — as 

 if to call attention to its own garrulity, like some worshipped 

 statesmen " inebriated with the exuberance of their own 

 verbosity." Its throat puffed out with conceit — like too many 

 human muffie chauthers — to hide its inferiority of song, so 

 unlike its two preceding shyer cousins, which, like true ability 

 and worth, hide themselves in silence away from society to 

 escape observation, and yet at times it sings pretty loud and 

 sweetly. As far back as June 3rd, 1855 — nearly forty years 

 ago — I noted this, for one note written on the spot during a 

 bird -hunting expedition says, " There goes two muffie chauthers, 

 one singing a loud song for such a small bird ; it is something 

 like the robin's — sweet, but quicker and shorter. When dis- 

 turbed it cries, in a hoarse tone, churr, to-wy, to-wy, quickly 

 joining the two last syllables. These birds are very common in 

 the hedges I see ; but if it would only hold its peace it might 

 pass for being rare, as it glides with great ease through the 

 hedges and thickets." Its liveliness and petulance make it the 

 observed of all observers. If you come near its nest it will fly 

 close to you, scolding like a little termagant, and flit about you 

 from spray to spray until you leave the place. Its song, 

 although cursory and rapid, is not unpleasing ; it often sings on 

 the wing as it rises from the twig on which it was perched — 

 rising some yards, fluttering and wriggling in the air, singing all 

 the time, then slowly and fantastically returning to the same perch. 



