here the proportions of the wing are reversed, for the upper 
arm bone is of great length, while the hand is relatively 
short. 
There is something inexpressibly soothing about the twilight 
of a summer’s evening. Most birds are abed. The swift can be 
heard high up, the “‘ woolly bats, with beady eyes ” are silently 
flitting all round one, turning and twisting as no bird ever turns. 
But for the chorus of the swifts, like black furies, and heard only 
at intervals, and faintly, all is silence, relieved, perchance, by the 
drowsy hum of a blundering dor-beetle. Then, suddenly, if one 
be near some gorse, or bracken covered common, the stillness is 
broken by a strange “ 
churring,” like a bubbling whistle, rising 
and falling in volume. This may be followed by a loud “ clap ”’. 
And yet the source of these strange notes cannot be located, nor 
can any living thing be seen to which they could be attributed. 
But keep careful watch. Presently there may emerge from the 
gathering gloom a long-winged, long-tailed bird, travelling at 
speed, with a twisting flight, and deliberate wing-beats, alternating 
with long glide on motionless pinions. As it passes one may 
notice white spots on wings and tail. This is the nightjar: a bird 
of ill omen among the aged inhabitants of the country-side, for 
they will assure you that it is guilty of sucking the milk of cows and 
goats. Hence, it is commonly known as the “ goatsucker.” 
Poor bird, it is quite innocent of such misdeeds, for though it has 
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