THE NIGHTINGALE AT HOME. 31 



a while since. * For several nights lately,' says a local 

 paper, 4 the Quarry Walk here was crowded with delighted 

 listeners to a supposed Nightingale, which was eventually 

 discovered to be a young sweep with a bird-catcher's 

 whistle ! ' 



With us this bird is rather chary of its music in a state 

 of captivity, but it does not appear to be so with the 

 Eussians, if we may judge by what is said by a traveller 

 of Moscow. ' In this city the Nightingales sing in every 

 respect as beautifully in cages as in their native woods. 

 In the bird- shops they are heard warbling with all the 

 fullness and variety of tone which characterises the 

 Nightingale in its natural state. By rattling beads upon 

 their tables of tangible arithmetic, the Eussian can 

 make these birds sing at pleasure during the day ; but at 

 night they make the streets of the city resound with the 

 melodies of the forest.' 



Notwithstanding the habitual shyness of Nightingales, 

 they sometimes build in very public situations : thus 

 we are told that a pair of these birds took up their 

 residence in the Surrey Zoological Gardens, where, un- 

 disturbed by the music or the firing on the nights of the 

 grand pyrotechnic display, they continued to warble their 

 delicious melody early and late. 



The old dramatist, Nicholas Eowe, gives us this pretty 

 picture of the Nightingale at home : 



So when the spring renews the flowery field, 

 And warns the pregnant Nightingale to build, 

 She seeks the softest shelter of the wood, 

 Where she may trust her little tuneful brood 

 Where no rude swains her shady cell may know, 

 Nor serpents climb, nor blasting winds may blow. 

 Fond of the chosen place, she views it o'er, 

 Sits there, and wanders through the grove no more, 

 Warbling she charms it each returning night, 

 And loves it with a mother's fond delight. 



Alas ! that this delight should be at times turned to 

 sorrow by the spoliation of her nest ; that the home of 

 peace and love, and outgushing song, should be ren- 

 dered desolate : yet so it is. The country boys consider 



