132 ARDEAD.E. 



Found equally at home in the most complete solitude as 

 in the immediate vicinity of the most populous city, we may 

 at all times discern its stately form upon the strand in the 

 vicinity of our city at Clontarf. 



Indifferent to locality, it becomes adapted to whatever 

 place chance may lead it to. Thus we observe it on thelevel 

 strand of the sea-shore, napping along heavily, and pushing 

 itself down, as it were, on the ground, stalking along slowly in 

 search of any food left by the receding tide, or small fish ap- 

 pearing in the shallows, usually with its long neck carried 

 upright, watchful against surprise. At times, as at Malahide 

 estuary, we may observe some nine or ten standing knee-deep 

 in the water along the embankment, apparently resting after 

 repletion, and rising heavily and silently on the approach of 

 every railway train. But the home the heron has essentially 

 made its own is the retired and lonely tarn on the mountain. 

 There, standing on a stone slightly raised above the water, 

 it remains motionless, with the neck retracted, and the glis- 

 tening eye eagerly directed downwards. Watch for an hour, 

 and yet he stirs not. The baldcoot sails past and trumpets 

 its curious note unheeding. A hen harrier dips into the hol- 

 low, and glances over the hill-brow. The sand martins, which 

 have mined the hill-side above, glide silently past, but he stirs 

 not, seeming as he were under the spell of some sprite or fairy, 

 to remain there in statu quo for ever. But, pshaw ! you lost 

 him. Instantaneously, and, like a lightning flash, the bill is 

 plunged into the water, and the next minute he is wading up 

 and down, with his crest erect, andhis golden irides more bright 

 than ever, seeming eagerly to shake off the fatigue of his long 

 pent-up energies, rejoicing, at the same time, at his success. 



We know the flesh of the heron to be despised in our 

 own days, yet, at a former period, it was alone reserved 

 for the tables of kings and princes. We even find it men- 

 tioned in the annals of our own country.* At the banquets at 

 Dublin Castle, where it appeared by the express orders of 

 Henry II., to entertain the Irish kings who were invited, 

 u cranes' flesh, i. e. herons," were placed before those native 

 princes, who, surprised at its unusual appearance, were un- 

 willing to eat until the king himself tasted some of those suspi- 

 cious-looking dishes. We again find them appearing amongst 

 the good things provided at the enthronement of George 

 Neville, Archbishop of York, in the reign of Edward IV., 

 and can scarcely envy the gastronomic sensations attending 



* Annals of the Four Masters. 



