their stratagem has been successful, and that you have passed the nest
unobserved, than they at once take a longer flight, and soon leave you
behind."

"How very singular, Uncle Thomas! Does the lapwing defend its young with
as much courage as the hen?"

"I am not aware that it does, Frank, though I think it is not at all
unlikely. As its instinct teaches it to finesse in the way which I have
told you, however, I should not expect to find that it does so with
equal spirit. Even the pigeon, the very emblem of gentleness and love,
boldly pecks at the rude hand which is extended towards its young,
during the earlier stages of their existence. If you come by chance on
the brood of a partridge, the mother flutters along, as if she were so
much wounded that it was impossible to escape, and the young ones squat
themselves close by the earth. When by her cunning wiles she has led you
to a little distance, and you discover that her illness was feigned, you
return to the spot to seek for the young, and you find that they too are
gone: no sooner is your back turned than they run and hide themselves in
some more secret place, where they remain till the well-known call of
the mother again collects them under her wing.

"I lately heard a most interesting story of the boldness of a pair of
blackbirds in defence of their young. A cat was one day observed mounted
on the top of a railing, endeavouring to get at a nest which was near
it, containing a brood of young birds. On the cat's approach the mother
left the nest, and flew to meet it in a state of great alarm, placing
herself almost within its reach, and uttering the most piteous screams
of wildness and despair. Alarmed by his partner's screams, the male bird
soon discovered the cause of her distress, and in a state of equal