* * * * * The white-fronted goose is the fourth and last on our list of grey geese--four forms of one species, as some hold--and, like the others, it comes to us from the north in winter, but is more common in Ireland than in Great Britain. It is like the bean-goose in size, but differs from it in its white front, and from the grey lag goose in having the under parts more speckled with black feathers. Its voice is most like that of the grey lag, but is more trumpet-like in sound, and the rapidly repeated notes give its cry a laughter-like character; laughing goose is one of its common names. It breeds farther north than the bean-goose, and its nest is described as a hollow in the ground lined with dead grass. It lays five to seven creamy white eggs. Brent Goose. Bernicla brenta. Bill, head, throat, and neck black, except a small white patch on each side of the latter; mantle brownish black with rufous-brown edges; wing-feathers, rump, and tail black; coverts white; upper breast black; lower breast and belly slate-grey; legs black. Length, twenty-three inches. * * * * * [Illustration: FIG. 76.--BRENT GOOSE. ¹⁄₁₀ natural size.] The brent goose arrives in our islands in the autumn, and remains through the winter in suitable localities in various parts of the coast, from the Orkneys and Shetlands in the north to the Channel Islands; it is, however, most abundant on the north-east coast of England. In most years old and young birds arrive together in flocks; in other years only adults appear, and it is supposed that in such seasons exceptionally cold weather has prevented the eggs from hatching. The brent differs from its nearest ally, the barnacle goose, in its slightly smaller size, darker plumage, which is nearly black, and its more marine habits. With us it spends most of the time out at sea, visiting the tidal flats early and late in the day, and at night, to feed on the wrack grass (_Zostera marina_). Mr. Abel Chapman has graphically described this goose in his ‘Bird Life on the Border.’ It is, he says, the last of our winter visitors to arrive, seldom coming in force until the new year. Their affections are so hyperborean that they will come no farther south than they are actually compelled by food requirements, being driven reluctantly southwards, point by point, before the advancing line of the winter’s ice. He writes: ‘On alighting at the feeding-grounds the geese at once commence greedily to pull up and devour the blades of the sea-grass, the whole flock advancing in the closest order over the green oozy mud, all heads down except the sentries, of which an ample number are always discernible.... After finishing their morning meal, about noon, the geese are disposed to rest, and spend the middle of the day floating about on the water, preening themselves, and, in mild