172 THE OPEN BOOK OF NATURE 
Brooklime lovely little blue flowers in axillary 
racemes. 
Profit by your mistakes. After this little lesson 
I don’t think you will make a similar error again. 
Go back to the brook, and bring us Watercress this 
time, please. 
The other day a naturalist friend told me a 
remarkable story about an incident in bird-life 
which happened in the quarry we have just visited. 
He was rambling quietly in the quarry, when he saw 
three Pied Wagtails (Motacilla lugubris)—two males 
and a female. It was the mating season, and both 
males were anxious to mate with the lady, who, 
however, seemed “‘ coy and hard to please.” She 
seemed to think, ‘‘ How happy could I be with either 
were the other dear charmer away!’ The males 
got angry, and began to fight, the lady looking on. 
One of the males settled on a stone and displayed 
his charms, dipping his graceful tail and swaying his 
lovely body in proper Wagtail fashion. He was not 
allowed to enjoy his advantage long, for the other 
male swooped down on him, and literally knocked 
him off his perch. The love-lorn swain picked him- 
self up, and flew to a jutting crag on the quarry face, 
followed by his angry antagonist, who dashed at him, 
and fastened his beak into his neck. Both fell to 
the ground, turning repeated somersaults in their 
descent. Alas! the first male could display his 
charms no longer ; he was picked up panting by my 
friend, and died from a broken neck in a second or so. 
The victorious male made up to the lady, and the 
two flitted about in lover-like manner, just as if no 
tragedy had happened. In the animal world it is 
