Nests of the 
Common. 
(80) THE BIRD WORLD. 
time the female Cuckoo is looking up 
a nest in which to deposit her egg. On 
one occasion we met with two nests of 
the Pipit within thirty yards of one 
another, and both contained the egg of 
the Cuckoo, and as the eggs were 
identical in colour, the probability is 
that they were both laid by the same 
Cuckoo. On another occasion we 
found a Pipit’s nest deserted, which 
plainly told its own tale. It contained 
a Cuckoo’s egg and a broken egg of the 
Pipit. There had been a scuffle, no 
doubt, on the Cuckoo attempting to 
place her egg in the nest, in the course 
of which the egg was broken, and the 
harmless little Pipit had left her eggs 
to their fate. The nest of this bird is 
generally well concealed, and the eggs 
being of a dark brown colour very 
easily escape detection. To the 
countryman the bird is probably best 
known as the Titlark, and, too, as the 
Ling-bird, from its habit of creeping 
through this low bush which is met with 
on so many commons and moors, and 
of which the grouse are very fond. 
The Ubiquitous Skylark. 
We do not remember having ever put 
foot on a common without meeting with 
the Skylark. It is essentially a bona- 
jide tenant of the common, and the 
bird which gives the most beautiful 
music to the waste land. As is well 
known, the nest of the Skylark is always 
built on the ground; it is not by any 
means a bulky structure, and is com¬ 
posed of dry grass and scraps of moss, 
lined with finer grass and a small quan¬ 
tity of horsehair. The eggs, which 
vary a good deal in colour and shape, 
are generally a greyish-white in ground 
colour, thickly spotted and mottled 
with olive brown. The markings are 
generally so thickly distributed as to 
hide the ground colour. Many well- 
concealed nests that we have met with 
have been placed close under the skirt 
of the gorse patch, but often as not the 
nest is found in the most open ground. 
Such as are not aware of the habits of 
the Skylark have amused us by watch¬ 
ing the bird descend to the ground, and 
proceeding to the spot expecting to find 
the nest, as if the bird came down from 
the sky on to the nest. The bird never 
alights on or rises (unless very suddenly 
disturbed) from the nest. It invariably 
drops on the ground some distance from 
the nest, and then rapidly runs or creeps 
through the herbage to the spot. 
A Fussy Little Fellow. 
The Stonechat is one of the most 
interesting and fussy birds which we 
find on the common, and a handsome 
little fellow is the male. Black and 
white he appears to be at a distance, but 
if you can get near enough to have a 
good view—a most difficult job—you 
will note his beautiful chestnut-red 
front and his neat white collar. 
Although a partial migrant, the bird is 
a resident in our isles, so that a pair 
may be found on the common through¬ 
out the winter months. It is an early 
nester, the nest being met with in 
April, that is, if it is met with at all, 
for of all the birds that nest on the 
common this is the most difficult to 
find; in fact, it is rarely found unless 
the bird be flushed from the nest. We 
have generally met with the nest con¬ 
cealed under very low gorse, say a foot 
to a foot and a half in height, and the 
bird seems to "reach it by creeping 
through a small tunnel to the nest, 
which in such a spot is unobservable 
from above. 
Birdy Billingsgate. 
The Sedge-warbler is a scold, as, too, 
is the common Whitethroat, but we do 
not think that either can give one a 
sounder rating than the Stonechat. 
Flitting from the top of one gorse bush 
to another, he flirts his tail, flutters his 
wings, and angrily chats at you. But 
there is a good deal of motive in these 
proceedings of his. The intention is 
without doubt to draw you away from 
the precincts of the nest, and, when this 
object has been achieved, he whisks 
away altogether. You will be treated 
to a bit more of his Billingsgate lan¬ 
guage on your next visit to his domain- 
