34 THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE TOG. 



related a very remarkable and touching anecdote of this 

 bird. He says : 



I went, on agricultural business, last May (1859), to visit Mr. 

 Jonas Webb, of Babraham, a large sheep-farmer in Cambridgeshire. 

 Whilst at dinner, I heard the 'jug-jug' of a Nightingale, close 

 outside the window. On asking about it, they said ' Poor thing, 

 she's only taunting the house-dog? It seems that the large dog (a 

 Newfoundland, I think) had been following its master down the 

 drive, past a laurel bush, where the Nightingale had built her nest ; 

 he snapped at it, and, just missing the old bird as she flew off, de- 

 voured all the young ones. From that moment the bird never left 

 the dog. She followed it when he walked, and sat, either upon his 

 kennel- top, or on a bush hard by, with its plaintive note, asking for 

 its young ones. Actually, if the dog followed his master into the 

 house, the bird would accompany him to the very door-step, and 

 wait till he came out, just like an avenging spirit. I was told that 

 the poor bird had done this for three weeks, at the time I was 

 there. By the courtesy of Mrs. Webb, we are enabled fully to con- 

 firm the above affecting incident. She states ' Our sympathy was 

 deeply called forth, and we earnestly desired that it were in our 

 power to replace the nest and little ones, and restore comfort to the 

 disconsolate mourner. Our surprise was great that the poor bird 

 could keep up her mournful song so long. It seemed as if her little 

 throat must be sore through her screaming for hours together. So 

 long as " Pilot " was in sight she continued upbraiding him night 

 and day. Sometimes ''Pilot" was allowed to join us when we took 

 our work or tea on the lawn. He would ascend the front steps, and 

 seat himself by the door in the hall. Even then the poor bird 

 would come, and actually hop on the steps after the dog. The 

 young persons would sometimes walk close to the bird, and see if it 

 would not fly away ; but no, the bird would still hop after the de- 

 stroyer of her little brood. For three weeks or a month we could 

 always tell whereabouts "Pilot" was, by the wearisome wail of the 

 poor bird. At length the sorrowful note ceased to be heard, and we 

 concluded that the bird was gone ; but suddenly it was again heard. 

 My husband looked out, and there was our poor bird on a high birch 

 tree across the lawn, and almost at the same moment "Pilot" was 

 seen passing under the tree. As it is believed that birds which 

 migrate return again to the same locality, we look forward with 

 much interest to watch if we shall hear any more of the one in 

 question, and whether "Pilot" will be remembered.' 



No one has more closely studied the habits of this bird 

 than Bech stein, and he states that it expresses its varying 

 emotions by distinct cries, or intonations of the voice. To 

 the simple cry or whistle,/^, uttered when the bird is alone, 



