THE QUAILS* QUADRILLE. 



BY MRS. A. S. HARDY. 



ONE who loves the birds and is so 

 much in sympathy with them 

 as to make it appear some- 

 times that they have taken her 

 into their "order," had a charming 

 glimpse, a few years ago, of a covey of 

 quails in one of their frolics. She de- 

 scribed it as follows: 



" I never hear the call of 'Ah, Bob 

 White!' or catch a glimpse of those 

 shy little vocalists, that I do not think 

 of how I once surprised them in the 

 prettiest dance I ever saw. I had heard 

 of the games and the frolics of birds 

 and have often watched them with de- 

 light, but I never saw any bird-play 

 that interested me as this, that seemed 

 like a quadrille of a little company of 

 quails. 



"They were holding their pretty 

 carnival at the side of a country road 

 along which I was slowly strolling, and 

 I came in sight of them so quietly as 

 to be for a time unobserved, although 

 they had two little sentinels posted — 

 one at each end of the company. 



"Between these bright-eyed little 

 watchers, always on the alert, a dozen or 

 more birds were tip-toeing in a square. 

 Every motion was with all the grace 

 and harmony which are nature's own. 

 At some little bird-signal which I didn't 

 see, two birds advanced from diagonal 

 corners of the square, each bird trip- 

 ping along with short, airy and grace- 

 ful steps, something like what we 

 imagine characterized the old-time 

 * minuet.' Each bird, as the partners 

 came near each other, bobbed its head 

 in a graceful little bow, and both trip- 

 ped back as they came to their places 

 in the square. Immediately the birds 

 from the two other corners advanced 

 with the same airy grace, the same 



short, quick, and tripping steps, salut- 

 ing and retreating as the others had 

 done. 



"A wagon driven along the road dis- 

 turbed the band of dancers, who scudded 

 away under leaves, through the fence, 

 into the deep grass of the field be- 

 yond. When the team had passed out 

 of sight and the ball-room was again 

 their own, back came the pretty revel- 

 ers stealthily, their brown heads up- 

 lifted as their bright eyes scanned the 

 landscape. Seeing no intruder, they 

 again took their places the same as 

 before and began again the same quad- 

 rille — advancing, meeting, bowing, and 

 retreating. 



" It was the prettiest and most grace- 

 ful little ' society affair ' you can im- 

 agine! There was no music — no song 

 that I could hear — yet every little bird 

 in every turn and step while the dance 

 was on, moved a^ to a measured har-- 

 mony 



"Did the birds keep 'time — time, in 

 a sort of runic rhyme' to melody in 

 their hearts, or to a symphony, I 

 could not hear, but which goes up 

 nceasingly like a hymn of praise from 

 nature's great orchestra? I longed to 

 know. 



" In my delight and desire to learn 

 more of the bewitching bird-play, I 

 half forgot I was a clumsy woman, and 

 an unconscious movement betrayed my 

 presence. The little sjentinel nearest 

 me quickly lifted his brown head, and 

 spying me gave his signal — how, I 

 could not guess, for not a sound was 

 uttered; but all the dancers stretched 

 their little necks an instant and sped 

 away. In a moment the ground was 

 cleared and the dancers came not 

 back." 



176 



