148 THE RINGDOVE. 
been my lot to find a ringdove’s nest in our neigh- 
bouring woods with full-fledged young ones in it; 
although I am continually in the habit of straying 
into them, and looking for the nests with a careful 
and unwearied eye. Wherefore, I conclude that 
our winter flocks receive migratory individuals from 
distant regions. 
The ringdove, by not feeding on insects, renders 
no service to man while visiting his fields. On the 
contrary, it is known to injure him considerably in 
his crop of rising clover. As soon as this plant 
begins, under the influence of the vernal sun, to 
expand its leaves, the ringdove attacks the heart- 
shoot with fatal severity ; and much address is re- 
quired on the part of the farmer to scare the birds 
from their favourite food. Leaving, however, the 
sons of Ceres to fight their own battles, I will merely 
add, that this handsome bird is protected here. I 
love to listen to its soothing murmurs, and take 
intense pleasure in observing its habits during the 
breeding season, when it becomes fully as tame as 
the domestic pigeon. The housekeeper often hints 
to me that a couple of them would look extremely 
well on the table; and the farmer calls them de- 
vouring vermin. I receive the opinions of these 
respectable personages with perfect indifference; 
and I sometimes soothe them by observing that 
where the ringdove has one friend, it has a thousand _ 
enemies, ready to prepare it for the spit, or to pre- 
vent for ever its return to the clover field. 
The ringdove lays two snow-white eggs on a nest 
which may be termed a platform of sticks, so spar- 
