Part 6

Indeed, I cannot tell you. There are different versions of the old song. One runs thus:

Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home; Your house is on fire, your children at home, All but one that lives under the stone,-- Fly thee home, lady-bird, ere it be gone.

In Yorkshire and Lancashire it is--

Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly thy way home, Thy house is on fire, thy children all roam, Except little Nan, who sits in her pan, Weaving gold laces as fast as she can.

The names of Lady-bird, Lady-cow, no doubt originated from the general reverence for this insect and its dedication to the Virgin Mary. In Scandinavia this little beetle is called "Our Lady's Key-maid," in Sweden "The Virgin Mary's Golden Hen." Similar reverence is paid in Germany, France, England, and Scotland. In Norfolk it is called Bishop Barnabee, and the young girls have the following rhyme, which they continue to recite to it placed on the palm of the hand, till it takes wing and flies away.

"Bishop, Bishop Barnabee, Tell me when my wedding be; If if be to-morrow day, Take your wings and fly away! Fly to the East, fly to the West, Fly to him that I love best."

The word barnabee or burnabee, or, as Southey writes it, burnie-bee, no doubt has reference to the burnished or polished wing cases of the insect.

Let us now look out for the coots and water-hens, which love to dabble amongst the weeds of these pools, and to hide amongst the hedges and bulrushes that so thickly skirt them. See how rapidly the swifts or "Jack-squealers," as the country folks call them, are gliding by; you remember when we were noticing the swallows and martins that we thought of the swifts. Look at the beautiful scythe-like form of the wings; the tail, you see, is slightly forked; but the bird has the power of bringing the feathers together, so that sometimes you cannot see its cleft form. I generally notice swifts in the neighbourhood about the 5th of May; this year Mr. John Shaw tells me he saw some in Shrewsbury as early as the 23rd of April. Although they come to us the last of the swallow family, they leave us the soonest. By the middle of August most of the swifts will have left us.

This bird has remarkably short legs; and I remember more than once taking one off the ground when I was a boy at school, for unless it is raised a little above the level of the ground, it finds it very difficult to mount upwards by reason of its extremely short legs and long wings. If we had a swift in our hands, I could point out how it differed from the rest of the swallow family in the structure of its feet; in the other members the four toes are arranged three before and one behind; in the swift all the four toes are directed forwards. There is another kind of swift, the "white-bellied swift," which has, on a few occasions, been noticed in this country. It is rather larger than the common swift, and has wings of greater length, and can fly even more rapidly. Hark! I hear the noise of a coot proceeding from the reeds of a pond. I dare say if we keep quite still we shall get a glimpse of her. There she comes; and do look, a lot of young ones with her; little black downy things they are, as we should see were we near enough to examine them. The old birds have a naked white patch on the forehead, and are therefore called bald-coots. You can see the white patch now she faces us and the sun is shining; the body is a dingy black tinged with dark grey; you notice a little white about the wings. The feet of the coot are curiously formed, each of the four toes is partly webbed, having a membrane forming rounded lobes; the claws are very sharp, and the bird does not hesitate to make use of them if you catch hold of it carelessly; so Col. Hawker gives the following caution to young sportsmen--"Beware of a winged coot, or he will scratch you like a cat."

I never saw a coot dive; and think it seldom does; water-hens, every one knows, are frequent divers.

The old bird is pulling up some of the weeds of the pool for the young ones; how carefully she attends to them; the heads of the little ones are nearly naked, and of a bright orange colour mixed with blue; but this brilliant colouring lasts only a few days. The nest is made of broken reeds and flags, and hidden amongst the tall rushes and edges in the water.

Bewick mentions the case of a coot having built her nest among some rushes, which were afterwards loosened by the wind, and of course the nest was driven about and floated upon the surface of the water in every direction; notwithstanding which, the female continued to sit as usual, and brought out her young upon her movable habitation. See, now they have all gone away to hide amongst the reeds; they like to come out into the open water late in the evening, and it is not often easy to observe them in the day-time. There are plenty of moor-hens or water-hens in these reedy pools. They are not so peaceful as the coots, for they have been known to attack young ducklings. There one swims, jerking up its tail, which is whitish underneath, and nodding its head; the moor-hen is a smaller bird than the coot, though resembling it both in form and habits. The feet, however, are very different, for, instead of the toes being furnished with a lobed membrane, they have a continuous narrow one down each. Moor-hens have been known to remove their eggs from the nest, in order to add to it, and to replace them again. Mr. Selby relates the following interesting account:

"During the early part of the summer of 1835 a pair of water-hens built their nest by the margin of the ornamental pond at Bell's Hill, a piece of water of considerable extent, and ordinarily fed by a spring from the height above, but into which the contents of another large pond can occasionally be admitted. This was done while the female was sitting; and as the nest had been built when the water-level stood low, the sudden influx of this large body of water from the second pond caused a rise of several inches, so as to threaten the speedy immersion and consequent destruction of the eggs. This the birds seem to have been aware of, and immediately took precaution against so imminent a danger; for when the gardener, upon whose veracity I can safely rely, seeing the sudden rise of the water, went to look after the nest, expecting to find it covered and the eggs destroyed, or at least forsaken by the hen, he observed, while at a distance, both birds busily engaged about the brink where the nest was placed; and when near enough, he clearly perceived that they were adding, with all possible dispatch, fresh materials to raise the fabric beyond the level of the increased contents of the pond, and that the eggs had by some means been removed from the nest by the birds, and were then deposited upon the grass, about a foot or more from the margin of the water. He watched them for some time, and saw the nest rapidly increase in height; but I regret to add that he did not remain long enough, fearing he might create alarm, to witness the interesting act of the replacing of the eggs, which must have been effected shortly afterwards; for upon his return in less than an hour, he found the hen quietly sitting upon them in the newly raised nest. In a few days afterwards the young were hatched, and, as usual, soon quitted the nest and took to the water with the parent. The nest was shown to me in situ very soon afterwards, and I could then plainly discern the formation of the new with the old part of the fabric."

"What is that little bird in the water?" asked Jack. "Oh! he is suddenly gone; do you see the curl in the water where it dived?" It was no doubt a dabchick, then, from your description, though I was not in time to see it before it dived; if we keep quite still and silent I dare say it will appear again. There it is, dabbling in the water in search of water insects that are found amongst the weeds. Another name of this bird is the little grebe; several species of grebes have been found in this county; the great-crested grebe is a very handsome bird and frequents lakes and rivers; but of the five British grebes, the little dabchick is by far the most common. The feet of these birds are peculiar, the toes are not connected together by a web, as you see in ducks and geese; they are, however, united at the base, and each of the three front toes is surrounded by a broad continuous membrane; the lower part of the leg is also very flat; the legs are placed very far backwards, so that these birds stand almost upright; the wings are short and seldom used for flight; however, they are admirable swimmers and divers, and pretty, lively little birds. The plumage of this little grebe varies according to the time of year. Now, in the summer weather, the head, neck and back are a very dark brown; the cheeks and front of the neck a rich chestnut; chin jet black; in the winter they lose this chestnut colour, and are then of a light olive-grey colour and white underneath. Formerly the two different states of the plumage were thought to mark two different species.

The nest, as Mr. Gould tells us, is a raft of weeds and aquatic plants carefully heaped together in a rounded form. The young ones have delicate rose-coloured bills and harlequin-like markings on the body, and rosy-white breasts. "So active and truly aquatic is the dabchick, even when only one or two days old, that it is almost impossible to see it in a state of nature; for immediately after the young birds are hatched, they either take to the water of their own accord, or cling when not more than an hour old to the backs of their parents, who dive away with them out of harm's way." Mr. Gould mentions that a friend of his, when out on a fishing excursion with him, once shot a dabchick as it dived across a shallow stream; on emerging wounded, on the surface, two young ones clinging to the back were caught by Mr. Gould in his landing net.

So rapid is their diving that they can often avoid the charge of a gun; they then rise again "with only the tips of their bill above water, and even these generally concealed amongst some patch of weeds or grass." The grebes have a peculiar habit of plucking off the soft feathers from the under side of the body and swallowing them. Why they do so is not known.

"What is this pretty pink flower," asked May, "with long trailing stems and leaves broadly arrow-shaped? From its resemblance to that beautiful convolvulus in the garden I should think it must be a smaller kind of that plant." You are quite right, it is a convolvulus, and its English name of Field Bindweed is expressive of the clinging habits of this plant; see how tightly it has wrapped itself round this tall blade of grass. Although a very pretty plant; with its pink flowers and darker plaits, its arrow-shaped leaves, and its fragrant smell, it is a troublesome weed to the farmer. Then there is the greater bindweed, with its large bell-blossoms sometimes white as snow, sometimes striped with pink, sometimes almost rose-colour, so often seen growing profusely over the tallest bushes. Both kinds of bindweed, however, are mischievous weeds; the large kind you may find in flower as late as September. Some of the bindweed family, I ought to say, are valuable in medicine. There is for instance the Convolvulus jalapa and Convolvulus scammonia, both of which are extensively used in medicine; the former a South American plant and the latter a Syrian one. Then there is the so-called sweet-potato, which is the root of Convolvulus batatas used in China, Japan, and other tropical countries as a wholesome food. Strange it seems that plants so closely related should differ so much in their properties.

The accompanying vignette may be supposed to represent Master Willy watching the movements of a snail.

WALK VIII.

JULY.

Let us have another stroll on the moors. We pass over a small brook on our way, and of course stop on the bridge and gaze into the little rivulet. What do I see about four yards off in the shade? A number of small dark-coloured patches which I recognise at once as one of our most beautiful fresh-water algae. We will gather some from the bottom. There! the little tufts are attached to the upper sides of stones. When taken out of the water, the plant looks and feels like a mass of very dark jelly. I will float a piece out in this bottle of water. Did you ever see anything more beautiful? It consists of a number of delicate branches, each arranged in a bead-like row, and from a certain resemblance which these beaded rows bear to frog-spawn, as well as from their jelly-like consistency, this alga has received the name of Batrachospermum, which means "frogs' spawn." If we take a bit home and spread it out carefully on a piece of drying paper, separating the numerous beaded branches one from the other with the point of a needle, and leave it to dry gradually, we shall get a very pretty object indeed. As you may suppose, the plant is a most charming object for the microscope. "Do you think," asked Willy, "it would do in my aquarium?" I have several times tried it in an aquarium; it would live for a few days, then gradually lose colour and break to pieces. The fact is that, as Dr. Hassall says, these plants "inhabit mostly pure and running waters, being usually met with in fountains, wells, and streams, the force of which is not considerable." The frog-spawn alga, therefore, will not thrive in any but the purest water, and a gentle flow is necessary to its growth and health. "These plants are so exceedingly flexible," Dr. Hassall continues, "that they obey the slightest motion of the fluid which surrounds them, and would seem almost to be endowed with vitality; nothing can surpass the ease and grace of their movements. When removed from the water they lose all form, and appear like pieces of jelly without trace of organization. On immersion, however, the branches again quickly resume their former disposition. They adhere strongly to paper, and in drying frequently change to some other tint usually much deeper; on being moistened after long intervals they recover much of their original freshness; and it is even asserted that, after having lain in the herbarium for some years, when they are replaced in water in a suitable locality, they will vegetate as before." This last assertion I must say I do not credit. I shall never forget the delight I felt when I first made the acquaintance of this curious and graceful alga. From the eyes of how many people are its charms hidden! It is only those that look closely that would notice the little jelly-like tufts growing modestly in shaded places for the most part. This species, however, is common enough in gently flowing and shallow streams, and we may often come across it in our rambles if we take the trouble to use our eyes. There are other extremely beautiful forms of fresh-water algae.

Here in this same stream are the long green threads of Cladophora glomerata. I use as few hard words as possible, but I cannot help using them sometimes, as many objects have no English names. This alga is also attached to stones and floats out with the current sometimes two feet in length; and, like the frog-spawn alga, is fond of pure water, but I have often kept the Cladophora alive in perfect health in an aquarium for weeks together. Its deep refreshing green colour and graceful form make it a very desirable acquisition for the aquarium. I break off a small bit. Now see its beautifully branched form. Do you remember a round green ball about the size of a small apple which I have at home? Well, that ball, which came from Ellesmere, is nothing else than a mass of this same Cladophora. Dr. Hassall is no doubt correct in his explanation of the formation of these balls. He says, "This state of Cladophora glomerata I believe to be formed as follows: A specimen by the force of some mountain stream swollen by recent rains becomes forced from its attachment; as it is carried along by the current, it is made to revolve repeatedly upon itself, until at last a compact ball is formed of it, which finally becomes deposited in some basin or reservoir in which the stream loses itself, and in which these balls are usually found." Here are some specimens in the water of a rich brown colour instead of green. This is caused by the growth of other algae over its long branches. See! I shake a bit in my bottle, and you see a quantity of brown deposit comes off, showing the green threads of the Cladophora underneath. This brown deposit looks to you, I dare say, very uninteresting. I will show you some under the microscope when we get home, and you will see many extremely beautiful forms. These are known by the name of Diatomaceae and Desmidiae. I will not tell you more of them at present; but a picture which I will show you will give you the forms of some of these microscopic plants.

All highly magnified.

1.--Staurastrum. 2.--Trigonocystis. 3.--Euastrum. 4.--Closterium. 5.--Diatoma. 6, 7.--Meridion. 8.--Eunotia. 9.--Exilaria.]

Here we are once more on the wild moors. There is really nothing very "wild" about them now; cultivation has turned them into excellent pasturage; the epithet, too, is a corruption of weald, signifying a wood. But this whole district, extending from Longdon-upon-Tern to Aqualate, was once, there can be no doubt, covered with water. Perhaps it was the bed of a large lake a great many years ago; the soil, you see, is composed of peat varying in thickness in different parts, and below the peat is often found sand and pebbles, which looks as if it was once the bottom of a vast lake ten miles or more long, and three broad. The village of Kinnersly was evidently once an island, and you can now see the moors extending all around it. Once, then, the whole district was covered with water, but about 200 years ago it was covered with wood.

"Oh! papa, did you see that?" said Jack. "A hawk pounced upon a small bird and has taken him to that fir tree, where he is eating him." It is a kestril; one of the commonest of the British hawks, and which we may often see in this district; though I am afraid those destructive animals called gamekeepers will in time succeed in destroying every hawk in the neighbourhood. "Well, but, papa," said Willy, "do they not do a great deal of harm to young partridges and pheasants, and of course the gamekeeper will not stand that?" I dare say; indeed I have no doubt that a kestril will occasionally seize upon a young partridge, but it is also certain that mice form the principal part of its food. Remains of mice, shrews, beetles, lizards, have been found in the kestril's stomach, and I am sure it would be a great pity to seek to exterminate this handsome and attractive bird. "Is this the hawk that you very often see hovering steadily in the air over one spot?" asked May. Yes, it is, and from this habit it has got the name of windhover; the outspread tail is suspended and the head always points in the direction of the wind. The sparrow-hawk I occasionally see, and now and then the merlin, a beautiful little fellow and of great courage; the sparrow-hawk is a much greater enemy to young birds than the kestril, and ought not to be allowed to increase where game or poultry are reared, for so bold are these birds that they will not unfrequently skim over a poultry yard, seize a young chicken and carry it off. Have you never heard the cry of terror an old hen utters when a hawk is seen in the air near her little brood?

Mr. Gould gives us the following anecdote of a sparrow-hawk as related to him by a friend:--

"Three or four years since I was driving towards Dover, when suddenly a sparrow-hawk, with a stoop like a falcon's, struck a lark close to my horse's head. The lark fell as a grouse or a partridge will fall to a falcon or tiercel, and the sparrow-hawk did not attempt to carry, but held on his way. I jumped down and picked up the body of the lark and the head; the two being entirely disunited. The velocity and force of the stoop must have been tremendous. I have often seen grouse and partridges ripped up the back and neck, and the skull laid bare, but I never saw a head taken clean off before." A sparrow-hawk has been known to pursue a finch between the legs of a man, and to dash through a window-pane with the intention of seizing some cage-bird.