class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[Pg 2]"/> try and find one myself." Well, here we are, then; we shall have to jump over a drain or two in our ramble, and as the banks are soft it will be necessary to take great care, or we may tumble in. Ah! do you see, there are two sand-martins, the first I have seen this year. See how fast they fly, now sailing high up in the air, now skimming quite close to the ground. I have not seen any swallows or house-martins yet, but no doubt they will make their appearance in a few days. "Where do they come from, papa," asked May, "because we never see these birds in the winter? You often say, when the spring comes we shall see the swallows, and then they go away again towards the end of summer." Let us sit down on this clump of wood, and I will tell you about the swallows.

We have in this country four different species of the swallow family which visit us every year; they come to us from Africa: these are the sand-martin, two specimens of which we have just seen, the swallow, the house-martin, and the swift. A very little attention will enable you to distinguish these different kinds. The sand-martin is the smallest of the family; as the birds fly by us you notice that the back part is brown, or mouse colour; the under part white. The back of the house-martin is of a glossy black or bluish-black colour; it is white underneath; while the swallow, which is larger than the other two, has a glossy back, like the house-martin; but underneath it is more or less tinged with buff; and see, as I speak here is one flying past us. To-day is the 12th of April, about the time the swallow generally comes to this country. Now you see clearly enough its colour, and you will notice, too, a very marked difference in the form of its tail; see how much forked it is, much more so than the tail of the martin. This forked appearance is produced by the two outer tail feathers, which are much longer than the rest. Now I hope you will take notice of these differences, and call things by their right names, instead of jumbling them all up together under the name of swallow. I have not spoken of the swift, which does not visit this country till May; it is the largest of the swallow family, and has the whole of its body, both above and beneath, of a blackish-brown colour, except a small patch of dirty white under the chin.

"But, papa," said Jack, "do all these four kinds of swallows come from Africa? It is very curious to know how they can find their way backwards and forwards from Africa to this country, and how they come back to the very spots they visited the year before?" Indeed, it is a very curious thing; nevertheless experiments have been made to show that these birds return every year to the same localities.

Many years ago Dr. Jenner procured several swifts from a farmhouse in Gloucestershire, and marked them by cutting off two claws from the foot of twelve of them. Next year their hiding places were examined in the evening, when the birds had gone to roost, when Dr. Jenner found many of the birds he had marked by cutting off the two claws. For two or three consecutive years he examined their nesting places, and always found some of his marked birds. At the end of seven years a cat brought a swift into the farmer's kitchen, and this was one of those which Dr. Jenner had marked. Now, Willy, I will ask you a question in geography. The swallow family visits this country from Africa. What sea, then, must the birds fly across? "The Mediterranean, papa." Quite right; and now can you tell me the narrowest part of the Mediterranean Sea? "The Straits of Gibraltar." Right again; and there the passage is about five miles wide; and at Gibraltar swallows, swifts, and martins are often seen as well as several other bird-visitors of this country. People on board ship have seen swallows a long way from land passing between Europe and Africa. Sometimes the poor birds are so tired from their flight that they are obliged to rest on the masts, yards, and rigging of the vessels. This often happens when the weather is hazy. Holloa, Jack, what is that splash in the water about six yards off? Keep quiet, and we shall see what it was. Ah! it is one of my friends, the water-voles; I see the rogue, with his large yellow teeth and black eyes. Do you see? He is on the other side of the drain, nibbling away at something. People generally call him a water-rat, but he is no relation at all to a rat, nor is he an injurious creature like it. "Well, but papa," said Willy, "the lads in the village always kill these water-rats, as they call them, whenever they can. I suppose they take them for common rats. Do you say they do no harm?" Very little, water-voles will not eat young chickens and ducklings; nor do they find their way into stacks and consume the corn; their food is entirely confined to vegetables, such as the roots and stems of water-weeds. I feel, however, pretty sure that the water-vole is fond of beans, and will occasionally do some mischief where a field of newly-sown beans adjoins the river or stream, in the banks of which these animals form their holes. I will clap my hands, and off our little friend with his dusky coat starts, diving under the water, whence when he comes out he will probably escape into a hole on the bank. Some day I will show you the skulls of a water-vole and a rat, and you will see there is a great difference in the form and arrangement of the teeth, and that the first-named animal is not, as I said before, related to the rat. The water-vole is really a relative of that interesting creature you have often read of—I mean the beaver. "Well, papa," said Jack, "I am tired of sitting here, let us now go and hunt for peewit's eggs." All right, Jack, and if you find any you shall each have one for your breakfast in the morning. When hard-boiled and cold, a peewit's egg is a very delicious thing, though I think the peewits are such valuable birds, and do so much good, that I should not like to take many of their eggs. We had better separate from each other, so as to have a better chance of finding a nest. Soon we hear a shout from Willy, whose sharp eyes had discovered a nest with four eggs in it; so off we all scamper to him. See how the old bird screams and flaps, and how near she comes to us; she knows we have found her eggs, and wishes to lure us away from the spot; so she pretends she has been wounded, and tries to make us follow after her. Now, Jack, run and catch her. Hah! Hah! There they go. I will back the peewit against the boy. So you have given up the chase, have you? Well, rest again, and take breath. The peewit, as you saw, makes scarcely any nest, merely a hollow in the ground, with, perhaps, a few dried grasses. The peculiar instinct of the peewit in misleading people as to the whereabouts of its eggs, or young ones, is very curious.

LAPWING.

A very observant naturalist says, "As soon as any one appears in the fields where the nest is, the bird runs quietly and rapidly in a stooping posture to some distance from it, and then rises with loud cries and appearance of alarm, as if her nest was immediately below the spot she rose from. When the young ones are hatched, too, the place to look for them is, not where the parent birds are screaming and fluttering about, but at some little distance from it. As soon as you actually come to the spot where their young are, the old birds alight on the ground a hundred yards or so from you, watching your movements. If, however, you pick up one of the young ones, both male and female immediately throw off all disguise, and come wheeling and screaming around your head, as if about to fly in your face." Peewits