18 



NOTES FROM YORKSHIRE. 



the branch of a willow overhanging a corner of the fine open sheet of 

 clear water we have in this village, and it apparently took no notice 

 of the passengers on the road within forty or fifty yards of it. I believe 

 the pretty harmless creature was marked, and shot by a mischievous 

 school boy in the end. 



The water hen ( Galinula chloropus) graces our water course all the 

 year round. The bittern (Ardea stellaris) has been seen and heard here 

 occasionally, but is rare. 



Wild ducks (Anas Boschas) are plentiful here throughout the autumn 

 and winter. Wild geese (Anser ferus) visit our hills and large open 

 fields by thousands every autumn, and it is very pleasant to observe 

 their orderly martial flight as they come and go every morning and 

 evening. The whizzing sound a large flock of them makes, as they fly 

 over one's head, puts one in mind of the music of the spheres: — 



" Unheard, but yet remembered still, 

 Through gleams of hope and clouds of ill." 



O ! did the town-bred youths but know the sweet pleasure that the 

 study of natural history would afford them, they would forsake the 

 billiard table and other idle games, and hie into the country after 

 business hours to hold converse with Nature and Nature's God. 



I am very glad, my dear Sir, that I fell in with some of your works 

 on natural history when I did, — had I not, I might now have been 

 spending my time in the same idle, profitless manner, that a great 

 many other young men do who have not their time fully occupied by 

 business. But to our subject again. 



The dottrel (Charadrius morinellus) and the plover (Ckaradrius 

 pluvialis) both visit our large open fields every spring and autumn; — 

 the latter bird often in great numbers, and dire is the slaughter com- 

 mitted among them both by experienced and inexperienced gunners. 



The curlew (Numenius arquata) may be found on our hills in 

 summer time, and some few years back I had two half-grown young 

 ones. In crossing the hills on a still summer evening after sunset, 

 when a boy, I verily thought I had got on haunted ground when I 

 came where there were three or four of these birds. They used to flit 

 about and utter such shrill, plaintive whistles, that I was almost afraid 

 of looking over my shoulder for fear of seeing the genii of the place, 

 or the fairies " tripping on the light fantastic toe," around the dark 

 green circles formed here and there on the hill sides. Maturer years 

 have, however, happily stripped imagination of all such illusions, and 

 where demons and genii were once reported to dwell, I now behold only 

 the presence of a God. 



