148 



THE RINGDOVE. 



been my lot to find a ringdove's nest in our neigh- 

 bouring woods with full-fledged young ones in it ; 

 although I am continually in the habit of straying 

 into them, and looking for the nests with a careful 

 and unwearied eye. Wherefore, I conclude that 

 our winter flocks receive migratory individuals from 

 distant regions. 



The ringdove, by not feeding on insects, renders 

 no service to man while visiting his fields. On the 

 contrary, it is known to injure him considerably in 

 his crop of rising clover. As soon as this plant 

 begins, under the influence of the vernal sun, to 

 expand its leaves, the ringdove attacks the heart- 

 shoot with fatal severity ; and much address is re- 

 quired on the part of the farmer to scare the birds 

 from their favourite food. Leaving, however, the 

 sons of Ceres to fight their own battles, I will merely 

 add, that this handsome bird is protected here. I 

 love to listen to its soothing murmurs, and take 

 intense pleasure in observing its habits during the 

 breeding season, when it becomes fully as tame as 

 the domestic pigeon. The housekeeper often hints 

 to me that a couple of them would look extremely 

 well on the table ; and the farmer calls them de- 

 vouring vermin. I receive the opinions of these 

 respectable personages with perfect indifference ; 

 and I sometimes soothe them by observing that 

 where the ringdove has one friend, it has a thousand 

 enemies, ready to prepare it for the spit, or to pre- 

 vent for ever its return to the clover field. 



The ringdove lays two snow-white eggs on a nest 

 which may be termed a platform of sticks, so spar- 



