THE COMMON NUTHATCH. 153 



Dost weep for the captive ? weep freely then : 

 But knowst thou, my child, there are captive men ? 

 Oh ! canst thou not hear how their plaintive wail 

 Is borne from afar on the ocean gale ? 

 Weep, weep for the captive, on land and sea, 

 And pray for the hour when the slave shall be free. 



The nuthatch is of so shy and timid a charac- 

 ter, that it is not very often seen. Its flight is gen- 

 tle, and its movements easy and graceful. While 

 it is climbing about the trees, it utters its cry of 

 ti, ti, ti, ti, ti, with great rapidity : besides this 

 cry, and the noise it makes in tapping the bark, 

 it produces a singular sound, either by putting 

 its bill into chinks, or rubbing it against the dry, 

 hollow branches this can be heard to a consi- 

 derable distance. The notes of this bird cannot 

 be said to be in themselves harmonious, and yet 

 there is a charm in such sounds, heard amid the 

 forests, with all the delightful accompaniments of 

 woodland scenery, and what Evelyn terms " the 

 innocent felicity of gardens and groves." And 

 thus the simple note of the nuthatch, or the laugh 

 of the woodpecker, becomes as attractive to the 

 lover of nature, as more perfect strains of melody. 

 So lovely, in truth, is Nature even now, marred 

 as her beauty is by sin and sorrow, and so strong- 

 ly does she still bear the impress of her high and 

 holy origin, that we doubt not many of our young 

 readers are ready to exclaim with the poet 



H 5 



