THE FEATHERED RACE. 109 



DURING the course of a life passed much in the country, 

 and perambulating the woods, the hedges, and the fields, 

 I have contracted almost insensibly an acquaintance 

 with the creatures that frequent them. Some have en- 

 gaged my attention by their actions and manners; 

 others have interested me by their innocency, and the 

 harmlessness of their lives ; and, perhaps, there is some 

 little partial bearing toward others from long associa- 

 tion, or from unknown, undefined causes. I tolerate, 

 in despite of all their noise, and all their litter, a colony 

 of rooks, which have taken a liking to some tall elms 

 near my dwelling. Not being ancient denizens there, 

 they can claim no hereditary rights ; but their con- 

 trivances, their regularity, and even their squabbles, 

 are amusing; and, perhaps, there is mingled with this 

 some little compassion for these dark, half-domesticated 

 families of the grove, driven by the ax from an old 

 abode, which may influence my forbearance. 



The hedge sparrow, or shuffle wing, (motacilla modu- 

 laris), is a prime favorite. Not influenced by season or 

 caprice to desert us, it lives in our homesteads and our 

 orchards through all the year, our most domestic bird. 

 In the earliest spring it intimates to us by a low and 

 plaintive chirp, and that peculiar shake of the wing, 

 which at all times marks this bird, but then is particularly 

 observable, the approach of the breeding season ; for 

 it appears always to live in pairs, feeding and moving 

 in company with each other. It is nearly the first bird 

 that forms a nest ; and this being placed in an almost 

 leafless hedge, with little art displayed in its conceal- 

 ment, generally becomes the booty of every prying boy ; 

 and the blue eggs of the hedge-sparrow are always 

 found in such numbers on his string, that it is sur- 

 prising how any of the race are remaining, especially 

 when we consider the many casualties to which the old 

 birds are obnoxious from their tameness, and the young 

 that are hatched, from their situation. The plumage of 

 this motacilla is remarkably sober and grave, and all its 

 actions are quiet and comformable to its appearance. 

 Its song is short, sweet, and gentle. Sometimes it is 

 prolonged ; but generally the bird perches on the sum- 



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