THE QUAILS* QUADRILLE. 
BY MRS. A. S. HARDY. 
ONE who loves the birds and is so 
much in sympathy with them 
as to make it appear some- 
times that they have taken her 
into their "order," had a charming 
glimpse, a few years ago, of a covey of 
quails in one of their frolics. She de- 
scribed it as follows: 
" I never hear the call of 'Ah, Bob 
White!' or catch a glimpse of those 
shy little vocalists, that I do not think 
of how I once surprised them in the 
prettiest dance I ever saw. I had heard 
of the games and the frolics of birds 
and have often watched them with de- 
light, but I never saw any bird-play 
that interested me as this, that seemed 
like a quadrille of a little company of 
quails. 
"They were holding their pretty 
carnival at the side of a country road 
along which I was slowly strolling, and 
I came in sight of them so quietly as 
to be for a time unobserved, although 
they had two little sentinels posted — 
one at each end of the company. 
"Between these bright-eyed little 
watchers, always on the alert, a dozen or 
more birds were tip-toeing in a square. 
Every motion was with all the grace 
and harmony which are nature's own. 
At some little bird-signal which I didn't 
see, two birds advanced from diagonal 
corners of the square, each bird trip- 
ping along with short, airy and grace- 
ful steps, something like what we 
imagine characterized the old-time 
' minuet.' Each bird, as the partners 
came near each other, bobbed its head 
in a graceful little bow, and both trip- 
ped back as they came to their places 
in the square. Immediately the birds 
from the two other corners advanced 
with the same airy grace, the same 
short, quick, and tripping steps, salut- 
ing and retreating as the others had 
done. 
"A wagon driven along the road dis- 
turbed the band of dancers, who scudded 
away under leaves, through the fence, 
into the deep grass of the field be- 
yond. When the team had passed out 
of sight and the ball-room was again 
their own, back came the pretty revel- 
ers stealthily, their brown heads up- 
lifted as their bright eyes scanned the 
landscape. Seeing no intruder, they 
again took their places the same as 
before and began again the same quad- 
rille — advancing, meeting, bowing, and 
retreating. 
" It was the prettiest and most grace- 
ful little ' society affair ' you can im- 
agine! There was no music — no song 
that I could hear — yet every little bird 
in every turn and step while the dance 
was on, moved as to a measured har- 
mony. 
" Did the birds keep 'time — time, in 
a sort of runic rhyme' to melody in 
their hearts, or to a symphony, I 
could not hear, but which goes up 
nceasingly like a hymn of praise from 
nature's great orchestra? I longed to 
know. 
" In my delight and desire to learn 
more of the bewitching bird-play, I 
half forgot I was a clumsy woman, and 
an unconscious movement betrayed my 
presence. The little sentinel nearest 
me quickly lifted his brown head, and 
spying me gave his signal — how, I 
could not guess, for not a sound was 
uttered; but all the dancers stretched 
their little necks an instant and sped 
away. In a moment the ground was 
cleared and the dancers came not 
back." 
176 
