STARLINGS. 3 



which, rises a tall flag-staff, crowned by its weather- 

 cock; under the eaves, and within the hollows and 

 chinks of the masonry of this tower, are his nursery 

 establishments. On the battlements, and projecting 

 grotesque tracery of its Gothic ornaments, he retires 

 to enjoy himself, looking down on the rural world 

 below; while, at other times, a still more elevated 

 party will crowd together on the letters of the wea- 

 ther-cock, or, accustomed to its motion, sociably 

 twitter away their chattering song, as the vane creaks 

 slowly round with every change of wind. 



We will give a journal of our Starlings' lives. 

 At the close of January, one or two unconnected 

 birds, now and then make their appearance on this 

 weather-cock; at first but for a few minutes, as if, 

 without an assignable reason, they had merely 

 touched upon it as an inviting resting-place, in their 

 unsettled course. In February, if the weather hap- 

 pens to be mild, the number of idlers may possibly 

 now and then increase; but still the visit seems to 

 be but the mere passing call of a few strangers, 

 without a leading object. In March, however, 

 about the first or second week, according to the state 

 of the weather, things begin to assume a more 

 bustling and serious appearance. Hitherto but one 

 or two, or at most three or four, may have dropt in, 

 as if to say, Here we are, the Winter is past and gone, 

 a happier season is at hand. But now the flights 

 increase, the three and the four are multiplied to 

 fourteen or sixteen, and the song becomes a little 

 chorus, more loud and more joyous than before; and 

 occasionally, though at first with some circum- 

 spection and hesitation, one or two of the boldest 



B2 



