94 The Alps in June. 



around us, that he seldom projects himself against 

 the sky in his flight, and may well escape the 

 quickest eye. But he is never many minutes 

 together on the wing, and will soon descend to 

 perch on some prominent object, the very top 

 twig of a pine, or a bit of rock amid the Alpine 

 roses 



Those quivering wings composed, that music still. 



His nest is not far off, and may sometimes be 

 stumbled on in the grass and fern. This blithe 

 spirit of the flowery pastures is the Water Pipit 

 (Anthus spinoletta, Linn.), a little gray and brown 

 bird somewhat more distinctly marked than our 

 English Pipits, having a lightish stripe over the 

 eye, whitish breast, and black legs ; but in other 

 respects much like his relations, both in habits 

 and in his song, which is a long succession of 

 clear bell-like notes, slackening somewhat in 

 rapidity and force as he descends. He has very 

 rarely been found in England, but may possibly 

 be commoner than we fancy. Should I ever 

 meet with him, he will surely carry me back in 

 fancy to his true home among the Alps, where 



