78 THE YELLOW WAGTAIL. 



white, greets our eyes in the field, by the way- 

 side, on the village common, and the borders of 

 ponds and streams. Little distrustful of man, 

 it enters our gardens, running rapidly over the 

 lawn, seeking for food. While yet the dew is 

 on the grass, and the insect race have scarcely 

 roused them from their slumbers, we see the 

 sprightly bird scudding over the green turf 

 in all directions. He flies fearlessly in the 

 path of the labourer, and is not disturbed by 

 the noisy merriment and gay sports of the chil- 

 dren, tripping lightly in their neighbourhood 

 while they play, as if he would willingly join in 

 their gambols. Its favourite haunts are the 

 shallow margins of running waters. In France 

 it often approaches the washer-women while en- 

 gaged in their labours on the banks of the 

 streams, and seems, by the motion of its tail, to 

 imitate their beating of the linen, from whence 

 the French have given it the name of la lavan- 

 ditre. They make their nests on the ground, 

 and lay five or six eggs of a bluish white, spotted 

 with brown. Nothing can exceed their attention 

 to their young, in which the male bird takes his 

 share with the female. They defend them cou- 

 rageously when attacked, and like the lapwing 

 and some other birds, will meet the enemy, fly 

 around him, and seek by every means to mislead 



