THE BLACKBIRD. 231 



flaps its wings, and then perhaps flits to another branch, where it per- 

 forms the same motions, or alights on the wall, hops along, suddenly 

 stops, jerks its tail, flaps its wings, and then commences singing." 

 When this bird is passing over an open space where it does not 

 intend to alight, its flight is steady and without undulations, but it 

 flits in a wavering and uncertain manner over bushes and thickets. 



The food of the Blackbird is very various. In the spring, summer, 

 and autumn it eats worms, snails, slugs, larvae, beetles, and other 

 insects, as well as fruit of various kinds; but during the winter it feeds 

 on wheat, oats, and many sorts of seeds and berries. As is the case 

 with most of our fruit- eating birds, it probably does a much greater 

 amount of good than harm in our gardens and orchards. In support 

 of this opinion a writer in " Chambers' s Edinburgh Journal," relates 

 that a grass-plot attached to a country house was observed to be visited 

 by a number of Blackbirds, and to be completely ploughed up by their 

 beaks. The owner of the property being unwilling to shoot them, 

 caused the plot to be dug up in several places to discover the cause 

 of their proceedings, and found it to be overrun with the Iarva9 of 

 chafers. The birds were left in undisturbed possession, and although 

 the walls were covered with ripe fruit, they left it untouched, and 

 devoted their attention to the grubs, which they entirely destroyed; 

 and the grass-plot soon resumed its original appearance. Even allowing 

 that the Blackbird frequently helps himself rather liberally to the pro- 

 duce of the garden, surely he more than repays us for our loss by his 

 delightful song, without taking anything else into consideration. Thus 

 thought Sir Alan Chambre, a judge in the Court of Common Pleas, 

 as is shown by the language he is recorded to have addressed to his 

 gardener, on discovering he had shot one of these birds. "You have 

 destroyed, sir," said he, "that which you cannot restore to life! You 

 have removed that creature from my presence for ever which I greatly 

 cared for. That Blackbird, for many spring mornings together, delighted 

 me and comforted me with his goodly song. Did the bird ever harm 

 you? deprive you of your rest, or rob you of your possessions? I 

 think not. Sir, I shall insist that no servant in my employ shall, under 

 any pretension whatever, destroy a single bird upon my premises. Let 

 the birds enjoy what fruit I have. It is only my paying them back 

 in my fruit for the enjoyment they impart to me with their charming 

 melody; and this justifies me in addressing you to the purport I have 

 done." 



The Merle, as this bird is often called, commences his song very 

 early in the year, in allusion to which the Scottish poet Graham bids 



