166 THE KINGFISHER. 



necessity of diving for a livelihood. I do not care if 

 thou takest all the eels in the lake. Thou art wel- 

 come to them. I arn well aware that thy stomach 

 requires a frequent- and a large supply. So, pr'ythee, 

 help thyself. 



NOTES ON THE HABITS OF THE KING- 

 FISHER. 



" Perque dies placidos hiberno tempore septem 

 Incubat Haley one pendemibus aquore nidis."* 



Ovid. Met., lib. xi. 



WHEN the delicious season of spring sets in, I often 

 get up into the topmost branches of a wide-spread- 

 ing oak; and there, taking the Metamorphoses out 

 of my pocket, I read the sorrows of poor Halcyone. 

 A brook runs close by the tree, and on its bank I 

 have fixed a stump for a resting-place to the king- 

 fisher. On it, this pretty bird will tarry for a while 

 in passing up and down, and then plunge into the 

 stream, and bring out a fish. My elevated station 

 on the oak gives me a fine opportunity of admiring 

 its back, as it darts along beneath me. When the 

 sunbeam is upon it, no words can do justice to the 

 beauty of the glowing azure which attracts the eye. 

 Modern ornithologists have thought fit to remove 

 the kingfisher from the land birds, and assign it a 

 place amongst the water-fowl. To me the change 

 appears a bad one ; and I could wish to see it 

 brought back again to the original situation in which 



