84 RURAL BIRD LIFE. 



fully through the semi-denuded branches, bringing the 

 leaves down in showers, and speaking of death and 

 decay, still the Wren creeps through the brambles, whose 

 leaves are now painted with bewitching colours, souve- 

 nirs of the waning year. Then, too, the Stormcock sings 

 his loudest, and the rapidly flying Swallows in one large 

 company claim my notice ; and. I can find abundant food 

 for thought by pondering over the unerring instinct 

 which leads these birds to leave our cold and dreary 

 shores long before the northern blasts arrive. No ; he 

 who is fond of animated nature will never feel lonely 

 when in Nature's grand domains, for she has lavished 

 her priceless gifts with such unsparing hands, that on 

 every side abundant objects, infinite in variety and pur- 

 pose, claim our attention, and as it were irresistibly woo us 

 from the society and company of our kindred. 



There is a pleasure in the pathless woods ; 

 There is a rapture on the lonely shore ; 

 There is society, where none intrudes, 

 By the deep sea, and music in its roar. 



But to return to our little Stonechat flitting hither 

 and thither on the heathery moor. You only find the 

 Stonechat on the moors, or in the large furze coverts on 

 their outskirts. He is not what you may call common 

 anywhere, but he can never be overlooked by the 

 observer, for his colouring is so rich and varied, and 

 contrasts richly with the purple heather's bell -like 

 ■flowers or the golden blooms of the gorse. Then, too, 

 he makes himself as conspicuous as possible, by sittino- 

 on the topmost sprays of the surrounding bushes. He is 

 also constantly in motion the instant an intruder 

 appears, and is, by his unceasing activity and mono- 

 tonous notes, one of the finst birds noticed when we set 

 foot on the springing heather 



