MARCH 18TH.

THE GORSE, GRAY, OR BROWN LINNET.-(Linaria canabina.) ON fine sunny afternoons, in the early part of the month, especially amid long tracts of arable land, may be observed flocks of Linnets crowding the tops of the tall elms, flirting, chattering, and then joining in a well-sustained chorus. Our interest has often been excited and curiosity awakened by these extensive musical parties, when we have wished for the gift of the prince who understood the language of birds, that we might ascertain the purport of these assemblies. Gilbert White says: "They all join together in a gentle sort of chirping, as if they were communicating their ideas about breaking up their winter quarters and betaking themselves to their summer homes;" a congratulatory meeting that the winter is passed, and a general returning of thanks.

The Linnet is not an unfrequent bird on our Downs, at Clifton. It prefers free, open spaces—

"On the green furze, clothed o'er with golden blooms,
That fill the air with fragrance all around,

The linnet sits and tricks his glossy plumes,

While o'er the wild his flute-like notes resound."

It is a very handsome bird in its summer plumage, the breast and head tinted with carmine, hence called the rose linnet; the throat is of yellowish white, and the upper parts of a modest brown. Its remarkably sweet tones may frequently be heard, and as the spring advances its power seems to increase, and its song becomes more varied, mellower, and fuller in tone. In confinement it is often taught to repeat the notes of other birds, but it is amid the furze and heather that it is heard to the greatest advantage, for there it builds its nest

"Formed of warm moss and lined with softest hair."

The habits of this bird are extremely lively; full of blithesome gaiety, it flits from bush to bush, carroling its sweet and cheerful song, the very emblem of happiness

"Sweet minstrel, mayst thou long delight
The whinny know, and broomy brae, and bank
Of fragrant birch! May never fowler's snare
Tangle thy struggling foot."-GRAHAME.

MARCH 19TH.

THE CHAMPIGNON.-(Agaric Oreades.)

AN edible kind of mushroom, of most delicious flavour, but generally regarded with great suspicion, on account of its resemblance to poisonous fungi. It is of a creamy white colour, and scarcely an inch in the diameter of the head.

It is usually known as the "fairy ring agaric," from the supposition that it causes those fresh green rings in the herbage of old meadows, many of which may be observed on the Clifton Downs, especially towards the Westbury Road. The old belief was that those bright green circles were caused by the "white fairies," a most courtly but diminutive race, represented as holding moonlight fetes attired in mantles of green silk lined with eider down, and garlanded about the waist with wreaths of wild flowers

"Tiny their stature, tiny each feature,

Yet are they graceful and fair;

Their eyes sparkle bright, as diamonds at night,
And a strange lustre darts through the air.”

And so the popular belief ran that these curious verdant circles in the grass were the traces of the fairies' mystic dance upon the greensward; and many traditions were handed down of those who on moonlight nights had watched the gay festivities, and pointed out in the morning

"The ring where last the fairies danced"

as vouchers for the correctness of their statements.

The modern explanation is that the agaric plants itself on the turf, flourishes, casts out its seed all around, and then dies; that fresh grass grow in its place, and that a ring of young fungi spring up, spreading of necessity in a circle, the fungi seed falling on the new grass and perishing, as the nutriment adapted to its growth has been wholly exhausted, and thus the ring extends wider and wider, the fungi becoming, in fact, the renewer of the grass crop. It must be admitted that this is a very plausible explanation; but we confess that having carefully noted these curious rings from time to time, we never yet witnessed the springing up of these successive circles of

fungi; nor do we believe that this agaric has anything to do with the strange verdant circles alluded to.

It is obvious that that close and accurate observer of nature, Gilbert White, was undecided on the subject of fairy rings. He says, "The cause, occasion, call it what you will, of fairy rings, subsists in the turf, and is conveyable with it, for the turf of my garden walks, brought from the down above, abounds with those appearances, which vary their shape and shift their situation, continually discovering themselves, now in segments, and sometimes in irregular patches and spots. Wherever they obtain, puff-balls abound, the seeds of which were doubtless brought in the turf.”

MARCH 20TH.

THE YELLOW HAMMER, BUNTING, OR YEORLING.— (Emberiza citrinella.)

OUR winter birds now begin to change their plumage. Reassuming their gayest colours as the spring approaches, their cheerful mating notes may be heard on all sides, especially when the bitter east wind lulls and a gleam of sunshine passes over the brightening fields. Every now and then the Yellow Hammer breaks into voice in so quaint and peculiar a call that the boys in most hamlets translate it into, "A little bit of bread and no cheese"-an emphasis being placed upon the no, which seems to render the request very distinct. The Scotch peasant lads give a more diabolical rendering to the call, as "Deil, deil, deil take ye soon." The latter terrible rendering of the notes arises probably from the extraordinary superstition that widely prevails, that this bird gets on the morning of every May Day "three drops of the devil's blood," which may be distinctly traced on its breast; hence the Scottish lines

"The brock, the toad, and the Yellow Yeorling
Get a drap o' the deil's bluid ilka May morning."

No wonder, with such an imputation on its character, the Yellow Hammer has little mercy shown it-it is accounted accursed, and the boys are encouraged to hunt it to death in some of the more benighted districts.

The bird is very common, and bears, generally, a much better character. The plumage is of rich bright colours. The head, neck, and under parts of fine golden yellow, with a few streaks of dark olive; the back black, mingled with reddish grey; the breast yellow, spotted with red. It is a gay, spruce, active bird, and, though not distinguished by its song, the notes are pleasing. The nest is generally constructed immediately under some hedge-bank; the eggs are most curiously marked, as if scribbled over with a pen dipped in blood or red ink, hence the bird is known in some districts as the scribbling lark. Occasionally these curious hieroglyphics are pretended to be read by the wise man or woman of the village, and spells performed by their aid. Clare alludes to the practice thus:

"Eggs pen-scribbled o'er with ink, their shells
Resembling writing scrolls, which fancy reads
As Nature's poesy and pastoral spells-
They are the Yellow Hammer's, and she dwells,
Most poet like, 'mid brooks and flowery weeds."

MARCH 21ST.

THE COMMON LAPWING, PLOVER, OR PEEWIT.-(Vanellus

cristatus.)

TO THOSE who are not much accustomed to spring rambles over extensive enclosures of marshy lands, wastes, or heaths, the habits of this bird appear very surprising, if not really alarming, for if the footsteps of the wayfarer tend towards the nesting-place of the watchful bird, suddenly overhead he hears the flutter of wings and a peculiar piercing screech or cry, and marks the angry bird whirling every moment in closer proximity, as if determined on making a fierce attack, the quick-sounding cry of "Peewit" becoming more and more vehement. The closer you approach the nesting-place the bolder the bird becomes; if, however, the feigned attack at your head proves of no avail to turn aside your steps, the tactics are changed, and the artful bird suddenly tumbles over and appears to fall helpless to the ground, as if wounded,

and then struggles along as if desirous but unable to escape; all this is mere feint, to lead the intruder from the nest. Thomson has well described the cunning of the bird :

"Around the head

:

Of wandering swain the strong-winged Plover wheels
Her sounding flight, and then directly on

In long excursion skims the level plain

To tempt him from her nest."

The bird arrives in March and builds in April. The nest is rarely more than a few loose straws in some hollow, the long herbage being made to do the duty of nest building. The eggs are of an olive colour, blotched with black; the white, when boiled, has a bluish tinge, and becomes nearly transparent. As soon as the young birds are hatched they leave the nest and seek shelter amid the fallows and herbage.

The Lapwing is very active, running rapidly, and hiding with great adroitness, having also considerable power of wing; in the breeding season it is especially bold, fearless, and menacing. The crest of long feathers ornamenting the back of the head, which it has the power of elevating or depressing, give the bird a very peculiar appearance. The head, front of the neck, and breast, are of glossy black, the upper parts deep green, showing brilliant reflections of bronze, green, purple, and blue, the under parts being of pure white. There is a considerable difference between the ordinary plumage and the full breeding dress, the latter being richer in colour. Occasionally a few Lapwings remain with us all winter long. These, in severe weather, must fare badly, as their chief food is slugs, worms, and insects. The great majority of the birds seek a less inhospitable clime as soon as autumn sets in.

There is a legend common in Scandinavia that a dishonest handmaiden of the blessed Virgin purloined her mistress's silver scissors, and that she was transformed into a Lapwing for punishment, the forked tail of the bird being a brand of the theft, and that the bird was doomed to a continual confession of the crime by the plaintive cry, Tyvit, tyvit; that is, in Scandinavian, "I stole them! I stole them!"