oak, or to hide itself in a holly-bush, and apparently derives
so much satisfaction from its own meditations, and seems to hold all
other birds of the forest in such utter contempt, that it never by any
chance deigns to join their sports, or mingle in their joyous songs. The
woodcock seeks the darkest and most silent thickets, and likes a marly
soil, damp meadows, and the neighbourhood of brooks and stagnant water.

But though motionless and torpid, so long as the sun is above the
horizon, woodcocks are always on the alert, and wake and shake their
feathers the moment night comes; leaving the shady thickets and grassy
spots, they flock to the glades and little paths of the woods, and
thrust their long beaks into the soft, damp soil--for this bird, be it
remembered, never touches either corn or fruit, but lives entirely upon
grubs and earth-worms.

It naturally follows that the woodcock, which finds its food in slimy
marshes, with head bent, and eyes fixed upon the ground, possesses none
of the gaiety and vivacity of other birds, holds but a very low place in
the scale of animal intelligence, and possesses a large share of that
stupidity peculiar to the dull species that were formed to live in the
mire.

The size of the woodcock varies exceedingly; they are much smaller than
the domestic fowl, but heavier and larger than the heath partridge; yet
there are some which are as small as a wood-pigeon, and even less. Their
plumage is dark, and harmonizes admirably with the trunks of the trees
and moss amongst which they dwell. Even in the daylight, and at a
distance of only twenty paces, it is impossible to distinguish a
woodcock, as it lies motionless, with closed wings, and neck extended on
the ground, amongst the withered leaves.

When walking on the grass, there is a certain elegance in its movements,
while the beautiful _chiar' oscuro_ tints of its wings, the gray and
orange hues on its breast, its long black legs streaked with pink, its
large beak, small head, and symmetrical proportions, combine to render
it a bird of no ordinary beauty. Though its eyes are piercing and very
open, the woodcock only sees distinctly at twilight, and its flight is
never so even or so rapid, nor its motions so brisk, or its gait so
regular, as at nightfall or at dawn of day.

The flesh is black, firm, and of a game flavour, and, with the wise, is
a most dainty morsel, a royal tit-bit. But dogs think differently, and
have such an avers