in its turn disappears: not gra dually, like the sun, but in an instant, profound darkness succeeds, and I sleep. I believe that I have now told you the history of my life: the history of one day is that of all. What I have heard and seen, would, indeed, make a copious narrative: but I speak of what regards myself, personally, and of that only. -I should like to hear how the time passes. with you and all the other birds, who live in a manner so different,"

СНАР.

CHAP. IV.

To them nor stores, nor granaries belong;
Nought but the woodland and the pleasing song;
Yet your kind heavenly father bends his eye
On the least wing that flits along the sky
To him they sing, when spring renews the plain,
To him they cry in winter's pinching reign;
Nor is their music, nor their plaint, in vain :
He hears the gay, and the distressful, call,
And with unceasing bounty fills them all.

THOMSON.

"IF, as I understand you” replied the yellow-hammer," your life experiences no variation in any part of the year, ours is very different, indeed. The habits to which different birds are accus

tomed

tomed vary in so essential particulars from each other, that I cannot attempt to give the comprehensive information which your question seems to require: but I will describe to you, in a general way, the life that we enjoy.

"In the morning, a little after sun-rise, we fly abroad in quest of food. Nothing can exceed our delight at the return of days and, like you, we express our pleasure in songs. At this time, the voices of ten thousand birds resound from the heaths, the woods, the fields, the leas, and the banks of silver streams: the

sky

sky-lark, rising perpendicularly into the air, sings a delightful song which is heard when he himself is out of sight: the wood-pecker makes a sort of loud and hearty laugh: the swallow sweeps over the surface of the ground and water, twittering in sweet tones; or, sometimes, by a shrill alarm, bids his companions be aware that the hawk is at hand: the hawk is a bird of prey, whose notes much resemble those of our king, the eagle rooks sometimes dive and tumble in a frolicksome manner in their flight, and attempt, in the gaiety of their

hearts, to sing; but with no great success *. It were endless to name all the various tribes of birds to-morrow morning you will yourself behold the scene of which I am speaking. We ramble from one place to another till noon-then, scarcely a bird is to be seen abroad-every one seeks shelter in the shade, and there, his hunger and thirst satisfied, dresses his feathers, and indulges in melodious leisure. These delicious hours these

* See the Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne by the Rev, Mr, White.

hours