Birds. 231 



Cowan Head, February 12, 1842. 

 My dear Goiigli, 



Conceniing the " window-peeper," as we call it, 

 which I mentioned in my last latter. Having half an hour to spare 

 this evening, and the incident being fresh on my mind, I will get it ofl' 

 my hands. 



This "window-peeper" was a grey wagtail [Motacilla Boarula), 

 which came and peeped in at our windows almost every morning, for 

 three months together. It was an exquisitely beautiful bird. The 

 colours of its plumage were as bright as if it had been a dweller with- 

 in the tropics. I need not say that the ordinary grey wagtail, in fine 

 feather, is a beautiful bird, but this was an extraordinary bird, so 

 pretty and so graceful besides. Well, it came to us in the first week 

 in October. Before the blinds of our chamber windows had been 

 drawn up one minute, there it was, pecking at the glass of first one 

 pane and then another. Every morning it came with the same cer- 

 tainty as the morning light. We are not quite free from supersti- 

 tion at our house, and therefore a repetition of these periodical visits 

 began, erelong, to give rise to ominous conjectures. On the morning 

 of the third day it was predicted that something was " sure to hap- 

 pen " ! I cannot myself boast of being quite superior to all supersti- 

 tious influences, but I endeavoured to reason in this way, that so fair 

 a visitant could not be a harbinger of woe ! If it had been the owl, 

 as Cliatterton says — 



* * " the dethe-owl which loude doth synge 



To the nyghte-mares as they goe : 

 Or the ravenne that flappes hys wynge 

 In the briered delle belowe ; " 



Or the hat, or solitary magpie, — any of these birds of evil omen might 

 have staggered my un-faith, but I felt quite sure that the grey wagtail, 

 so redolent of beauty and purity, if it were a spiritual manifestation at 

 all, must bring with it " airs from heaven." The third day came and 

 went, and the seventh day came and went — two mystical periods 

 passed, and yet nothing very extraordinary " happened." Supersti- 

 tious thoughts now vanished. The stranger, erst looked upon with a 

 kind of awe, now became a welcome friend. The windows were 

 thrown open, and he had a general invitation to " bed and board." 

 But no : my feathered friend conceived that that might be leading to 

 too close an intimacy — too great familiarity — and he preferred the 

 medium acquaintanceship of the closed window. When the sash 

 was up, he carefully avoided the vacuum, and flew against the upper 



