NIGHTINGALF. 85 
descended. It also searches for insects along the branches 
and under leaves. It is fond of the eggs of ants, and of 
the larve of wasps, hornets, and bees. The young are said 
to be fed with caterpillars. 
It is a fancy of Viellot, and the idea, though fanciful, is a 
pretty one, that the Nightingale loves a neighbourhood where 
there is an echo, as if aware of and admiring its own music. 
Certainly the echo of such sounds, for most beautiful they 
are, are well worth listening to, and the softened strain may 
be mistaken by the enamoured bird for the answering note 
of his partner, and so may have a heightened enchantment 
to his ear. 
The name of Nightingale is derived, as Pennant remarks, 
from the word night, and the Saxon word galan—to sing; 
and ‘oft in the stilly night’ when you are far away from 
every wordly association, and there is nothing but the voice 
of the Nightingale to break the ‘charmed air’ and the repose 
in which all nature is hushed, your soul may well be raised 
to happy and holy contemplation, and you will be able to 
enter into the spirit of the Old Hundredth Psalm, and 
‘Praise GOD from whom all blessings flow.’ 
When the young are hatched the song ceases in great 
measure, though it is in fact continued in some degree to 
within a few days of their departure. They do not sing on 
their very first arrival; it is not till the females have come 
that the serenade begins; then ‘Buona notte, Buona notte 
amato bene,’ 1s the nightly strain for about a fortnight, until 
the arrival of a family busy it too much with sublunary 
cares. If the female be accidentally destroyed, the male then 
resumes his song until he finds another partner, which, curious 
to say, as in the case of other species, he generally meets 
with, but where or how is ‘passing strange.’ A warning note 
is excited by the approach of danger, or a snapping of the 
bill uttered against it, and a short ‘tack,’ heard also at other 
times. The Nightingale begins its morning song from halt- 
past three to four o'clock. Sometimes, indeed, especially if 
the moon be shining, it sings throughout the night, and its 
song, attended however by its peculiar objurgatory note, 
instead of being checked, is only excited the more by any 
easual disturbance. The sound of music or other noise will 
arouse their attention, and at times their rivalry. An anecdote 
is on record of one, which entered into competition with the 
instrument of a performer, and fell at his feet exhausted 
