Magpies always make a great chattering when they are disturbed, or when they apprehend that danger is near. Waterton says that they are vociferous at the approach of night, and that they are in truth valuable watchmen on that account. “Whoever enters the wood,” he says, “is sure to attract their notice, and then their challenge is incessant. When I hear them during the night, or even during the day, I know that mischief is on the stir. Three years ago, at eleven o’clock in the day, I was at the capture of one of the most expert and desperate poachers, to whose hiding-place we were directed by the chatter of the magpies.” The poor magpie has many enemies, and, knowing this, is always on the watch, and easily alarmed. Its mode of walking is like that of the rook, but not having any dignity to maintain, it every now and then leaps in a sidelong direction. When alarmed itself, or wishing to announce danger to other birds, it utters a sort of chuckling cry or chatter. If a fox or cat, or any other unfriendly animal, approaches, it hovers about it, and alarms the whole neighbourhood by its cries till the enemy is out of sight. Like the jackdaw, it generally keeps in pairs the whole year round; and, indeed, when birds continue to inhabit the same nest, season after season, it is quite natural that they should do so. It is a curious fact, however, that if by any accident the hen-magpie is killed, whilst sitting on her eggs, her mate sets off at once and brings home another wife, who takes to the nest and eggs, just as if she had laid them; and if by another mischance she too should come to an untimely end, the widower again goes off, and, without any loss of time, brings back a third wife, and she takes to her duties quite as naturally and lovingly as the other did; but where all these surplus mothers come from is a question which no naturalist has yet answered, and the magpie, with all his chattering, is not clever enough to explain the wonder. [Sidenote: _Its Beautiful Plumage._] The beauty of this bird’s plumage is familiar to all; and although it is simply black and white, yet the exquisitely-coloured gloss of green, blue, and purple, with their varying and intermingling tints, produce such a charming effect that one cannot sufficiently admire them. With the external structure of the magpie’s nest we are acquainted: the lower part, inside, is neatly plastered with mud, “and is furnished,” says Bewick, “with a sort of mattress, formed of wool or fibrous roots, on which from three to six eggs are laid.” The eggs frequently vary, both in size and colour; sometimes they are of a pale green, freckled over with amber-brown and light purple; sometimes pale blue, with smaller spots of the same dark colours.