154 TAMENESS OF WOODPIGEON. [PART II. 



disconsolate with its single egg, on a table in the 

 hall. I did not see either of the birds in the 

 drawing-room afterwards. They probably gave up 

 settling there as a "bad job," and went to look 

 out some more favoured place, where housemaids, 

 with their brooms, pails, et hoc genus omne, 

 were unlikely to trouble them. I wonder what 

 lying-in-hospital poor Madame found for her re- 

 maining eggs. 



The tameness of the Woodpigeon during the 

 breeding season presents a remarkable contrast to 

 his extreme wildness at other seasons of the year. 

 In the winter, saving the Curlew, I scarcely know 

 a shyer bird, or one who takes generally better 

 care of himself. If you endeavour to approach 

 one in a tree, he almost invariably flies off so as 

 to keep it between yourself and him, and thus 

 often saves himself from the chance of a shot. In 

 the spring, however, you see the Woodpigeon qui- 

 etly walking about your pleasure-grounds close to 

 the house, or sitting unconcerned on a low tree, 

 and cooing, within a few yards of you, crossing 

 you as he leaves it, or coming straight over your 

 head with a flight betokening nothing of alarm 

 or haste, but probably executing, as he does it, 

 one of those elegant movements peculiar to that 



