Yes, along those hedges, fresh and fragrant with their young leaves, along those banks studded with primroses, campions, blue-bells and white starwort, and through the thick growth of the wild rose bushes, all of which have a beauty especially their own, the white-throat salutes you as you pass, as if to recognise an old acquaintance. He is brimful of fun; out he starts and performs his series of eccentric frolics in the air, accompanied by his mad-cap sort of warble; or, almost as if laughing at you, he repeats from the interior of the bushes his deep grave note, _chaw! chaw!_ whence comes the name of peggy-chaw. This, however, is to tell you—and to those who understand bird-language it is intelligible enough—that he has now a family to attend to, and he begs, very respectfully, that you will not trouble yourself about it. [Sidenote: _Description of the Bird._] A Scotch naturalist says that “the peasant boys in East Lothian imagine that the bird is mocking or laughing at them, as it tumbles over the hedge and bushes in the lane, and, therefore, they persecute it at all times, even more mercilessly than they do sparrows.” The white-throat is an excitable little bird, rapid in all its movements; and though it will apparently allow a person to come near, it incessantly flits on, gets to the other side of the hedge, warbles its quaint little song, flies to a short distance, sings again, and so on, for a long time, returning in the same way. It erects the feathers of its head when excited, and swells its throat so much when singing, that the feathers stand out like a ruff, whence it has obtained the name of _Muffety_, or Charlie-mufty, in Scotland. Its colour, on the upper parts of the body, is reddish-brown, brownish-white below, with a purely white throat. Its food is principally insects and larvæ of various kinds, for which it is always on the search amongst the thick undergrowth of the plants and bushes where it builds. One of its many names is Nettle-creeper, from this plant growing so generally in the localities which it haunts. Its nest—one of the most light and elegant of these little abodes—may truly be called “gauze-like,” for being constructed wholly of fine grasses, and very much of the brittle stems of the Galnim aparine, or cleavers, which, though slender, are not pliant, and bend only with an angle; they prevent the whole fabric from being closely woven, so that it maintains a gauzy texture; the inside, however, is put together more closely of finer and more pliant materials, delicate root-filaments, and various kinds of hair. The eggs, four or five in number, are of a greenish-gray colour, often with a tawny hue, blotched and spotted over with dark tints of the same colour.