i 4 8 THE BIRDS OF OUR RAMBLES. 



most agricultural districts. It is distinguished by 

 having a yellow bill, and no ruby-coloured patch 

 on the head and breast. Without noticing such 

 structural peculiarities the Twite is easily enough 

 recognised by its long-drawn note, twa-ite. Like 

 the Cuckoo, it is constantly calling its own name 

 and rendering mistakes on our side almost im- 

 possible. The Twite is usually first seen sitting 

 on the tall heather, and as we approach he flits 

 on and perches again to wait for us. On and on 

 he flits, or rises into the air and returns to his 

 old perching-place, where perhaps he will be 

 rejoined with his mate, she in the meantime 

 having slipped off her cosy nest amongst the 

 heath, and together the birds flit anxiously about 

 the moor, patiently awaiting our departure. But 

 before doing so we will take just one peep into 

 their little home. It is often made right down 

 near the roots of the heath, often on the very 

 ground itself, and is made of dry grass, fine 

 twigs of the heather, moss, and rootlets, and 

 warmly lined with wool and feathers. The eggs 

 are four or five in number, pale greenish blue, 

 spotted with dark brown and gray, most thickly 

 round the larger end. The food of the Twite up 

 here on the moors is composed of insects, es- 

 pecially little beetles ; but when we meet with 

 this bird again on the lowlands in winter we shall 

 find that small seeds are almost its sole support. 

 As soon as the young are safely reared the Twite 

 becomes gregarious, and for the remainder of the 

 year is met with in flocks of varying size, and 

 often in the company of other Finches, especially 

 Linnets and Redpoles. 



