martin, and about
ten or twelve days before the swift.

In 1772 there were young house-martins in their nest till October 23rd.

The swift appears about ten or twelve days later than the house-swallow:
viz., about the 24th or 26th April.

Whin-chats and stone-chatters stay with us the whole year.

Some wheat-ears continue with us the winter through.

Wag-tails, all sorts, remain with us all the winter. Bullfinches, when
fed on hempseed, often become wholly black.

We have vast flocks of female chaffinches all the winter, with hardly any
males among them.

When you say that in breeding-time the cock snipes make a bleating noise,
and I a drumming (perhaps I should rather have said a humming), I suspect
we mean the same thing. However, while they are playing about on the
wing they certainly make a loud piping with their mouths: but whether
that bleating or humming is ventriloquous, or proceeds from the motion of
their wings, I cannot say; but this I know, that when this noise happens,
the bird is always descending, and his wings are violently agitated.

Soon after the lapwings have done breeding they congregate, and, leaving
the moors and marshes, betake themselves to downs and sheep-walks.

Two years ago last spring the little auk was found alive and unhurt, but
fluttering and unable to rise, in a lane a few miles from Alresford,
where there is a great lake: it was kept awhile, but died.

I saw young teals taken alive in the ponds of Wolmer Forest in the
beginning of July last, along with flappers, or young wild ducks.

Speaking of the swift, that page says "its drink the dew;" whereas it
should be "it drinks on the wing;" for all the swallow kind sip their
water as they sweep over the face of pools or rivers: like Virgil's bees,
they drink flying; "_flumina summa libant_." In this method of drinking
perhaps this genus may be peculiar.

Of the sedge-bird, be pleased to say it sings most part of the night; its
notes are hurrying, but not unpleasing, and imitative of several birds;
as the sparrow, swallow, skylark. When it happens to be silent in the
night, by throwing a stone or clod into the bushes where it sits you
immediately set it a-singing; or, in other words, though it slumbers
sometimes, yet as soon as it is awakened it reassumes its song.

LETTER XL.

SELBORNE, _Sept. 2nd_, 1774.

Dear Sir,--Before your letter arrived, and of my own accord, I