Often still wake the echoes of Coirre-na-Sheen, At the blast of thy bugle, O Hunter in Green! Go get thee a mate from the green fairy knowe-- A cross-bearing maid dare not wed such as thou: Let fairy wed fey, and let mortal wed mortal. Come, Annabel, stir up the fire till it blaze in a lowe! The moral of the fairy song is instantly apparent. A young lady--miss or milkmaid--is not to hold clandestine appointments with any young gentleman, however lovable and attractive, until at least she knows who and what he is, whence he cometh and whither he goeth. Having met and loved, however, she is instantly to consult those who are older and wiser than herself, and, under their friendly care and direction, she is to be sure that, on her own part and on that of her lover, all shall be pure and holy. The touch at the end is admirable. We must suppose a mother telling the story, herself and sons and daughters sitting round the fire, which, in the absorbing interest of the tale, has been for the time neglected. "Annabel," addressed at the close, we must fancy to be the eldest daughter, just entering upon womanhood. The whole moral of the story, flung obliquely at her head in the command to stir the fire and make it blaze, is exquisite, and we can fancy the gentle "Annabel" quietly smiling to herself the while--she also having a secret--as she cheerily obeys the maternal mandate. CHAPTER XXVIII. Wild Birds' Nests in early April--Rook stealing Eggs frightened and almost captured--The Domestic Cock--What he was, and what he is--Sadly demoralised by intermixture with "Cochin-Chinas" and "Bramahpootras."