WHITETHROAT. 107 



at times when flying from bush to bush. Its alarm note 

 has been likened to the syllable 'shurr,' and the call-note 

 to 'hwed, hwed;' a common 'cha, cha, cha' is also very 

 frequent when it is in some secluded shelter, but is left off 

 when disturbed. Mr. Jesse says that he has noticed that 

 it imitates the notes of the Swallow and the Sparrow, 

 and has also observed that the imitative notes are always 

 the commencement of the song. The Whitethroat begins to 

 sing at early dawn, and is often heard at mid-day, and till 

 the dusk of the evening. 'If you be walking,' says Mr. Weir, 

 'along a hedge in the early twilight, the little creature is 

 sure to come up, announcing its presence by its song, and 

 flitting in advance for perhaps a long way. One morning in 

 July, 1835, when approaching Edinburgh, after walking all 

 night from Glasgow, I encountered several Whitethroats in 

 this manner, some of which accompanied or preceded me 

 several hundred yards, although I could not see one of them/ 

 'Although it allows a person to approach very near, it flits 

 incessantly and with extreme agility among the twigs, and if 

 pursued, generally keeps on the other side of the hedge, flies 

 off to a short distance, emits its song, sometimes while on 

 wing, more frequently the moment it alights, then glides 

 along, takes flight again, sings, and so continues for a long 

 time. If you follow it to a distance, it often returns in 

 the same manner.' The song ceases about the middle of 

 July. The objurgatory note, if the nest be approached, is a 

 sort of 'churr.' 



The nest, thin in width and loosely compacted, though 

 still elastic and not flimsy, is placed near the ground, not 

 more than two or three feet above it, in a low hedge, or 

 sometimes in a bramble, furze, sloe, wild rose, or other bush, 

 as also frequently among nettles or other tall weeds or her- 

 baceous plants on the ground, or beside a bank; Mr. Jesse 

 mentions one built in a vine close to a window. It is for 

 the most part a 'straw-built shed,' composed chiefly of dried 

 stalks of grasses, though other plants are occasionally used, 

 and lined with finer portions of the same, and a good deal 

 of hair of various kinds, with which it is often, though not 

 always, thickly woven on the inside, which gives it accord- 

 ingly more or less consistency. The same situation is frequently 

 resorted to year after year; a trifling disturbance will cause 

 the owner to desert it before the eggs are laid, but the 

 reverse is the case afterwards: much care is not taken in its 



