VOICES OF BIRDS. 



prehend that these retreats are occasionally made 

 for the purpose of forming nests, though they are 

 afterward abandoned without incubation ; as I have 

 now before me the egg of a bird, which I believe to 

 be that of a fieldfare, taken from a nest somewhat 

 like that formed by the song-thrush, in 18S4. Its 

 colour is uniform a rather pale blue ; it is larger 

 than that of the thrush, obtuse at both ends, and 

 unlike any egg produced by our known British 

 birds. These retiring birds linger with us late in 

 the season, after all the main flights are departed, 

 as if reluctant to leave us ; but towards the middle 

 or end of April these stragglers unite, form a small 

 company, and take their flight. 



Rural sounds, the voices, the language of the 

 wild creatures, as heard by the naturalist, belong 

 to, and are in concord with the country only. Our 

 sight, our smell, may perhaps be deceived for an 

 interval by conservatories, horticultural arts, and 

 bowers of sweets ; but our hearing can in no way 

 be beguiled by any semblance of what is heard in 

 v the grove or the field. The hum, the murmur, the 

 medley of the mead, is peculiarly its own, admits 

 of no imitation, and the voices of our birds convey 

 particular intimation, and distinctly notify the va- 

 rious periods of the year, with an accuracy as cer- 

 tain as they are detailed in our calendars. The 

 season of spring is always announced as approach* 

 ing by the notes of the rookery, by the jangle or 

 wooing accents of the dark frequenters of its trees ; 

 and that time having passed away, these conten- 



