forth, this faithful companion takes her place, and leaves her to range at liberty. When the shadows begin to lengthen upon the grass, she returns rejoicing to her nest; and her helpmate flies abroad to seek refreshment in his turn. But when the young are hatched, she refuses to share even with him, the pleasure of close attendance on their wants. She remains with her young family for at least three days, and only leaves them in order to take a little food. Her companion, in the meantime, ranges through the fields in search of grain, which he treasures up in his commodious crop, and with which he joyfully supplies the wants of his callow brood. When able to fly, the parent birds conduct them to their usual haunts, and while thus employed, their soft and joyous voices are heard from the depth of the most solitary woods.

Nor is the conjugal attachment of this interesting species less extraordinary. They generally fly together, and the loss of one frequently occasions the other to pine away. Hence the pigeon, as far back as the researches of natural history extend, became the symbol of affection. She was also an emblem of fidelity from the people to their sovereign, and of soldiers to their general. Thus, on the reverse of a medal of Heliogabalus, a woman is seen sitting, holding in her hand a dove.

Several of our neighbours keep pigeons, and the lovers of rural scenery may notice a solitary farm-house, at a short distance from the village, with its pointed roof, gable-end, and row of dove-boxes. Thither a flight of beautiful domestic pigeons are seen repairing with the last gleam of evening, and he, who is early abroad, often hears their soft cooing voices, in unison with the ceaseless caw of a neighbouring rookery. This farm-house is also famous for a fine herd of cattle, which are generally seen feeding near the little river. Constant as the evening and the morning, the halloo of the ploughboy, calling to his cattle, breaks on the stillness of that wild spot; and when they are assembled in the farmer's yard, the merry voices of the damsels, as they milk and sing, are heard at intervals. This solitary farm, its fields, and cattle, often bring to my remembrance the exquisite pastoral description of the Farmer's Boy :

"The clattering dairy-maid, immers'd in steam,

Singing and scrubbing 'midst her milk and cream,

Bawls out, Go fetch the cows:' Giles hears no more,
For pigs, and ducks, and turkeys throng the door,
And setting hens, for constant war prepar'd;
A concert strange to that which late he heard.
Straight to the meadow then he whistling goes;
With well-known halloo calls his lazy cows :
Down the rich pasture heedlessly they graze,
Or hear the summons with an idle gaze;
For well they know the cow-yard yields no more
Its tempting fragrance, nor its wint'ry store.

Reluctance marks their steps, sedate and slow;
The right of conquest all the law they know :
Subordinate, they one by one succeed,

And one among them always takes the lead;
With jealous pride her station is maintain'd,
For many a broil that post of honour gain'd.
Forth comes the maid, and like the morning smiles;
The mistress too-and follow'd close by Giles.
A friendly tripod forms their humble seat,
With pail bright scour'd, and delicately sweet.
Where shadowing elms obstruct the morning ray,
Begins their work, begins their simple lay;
And crouching Giles beneath a neighbouring tree
Tugs o'er his pail, and chaunts with equal glee;
Whose hat with tatter'd brim, of nap so bare,
From the cow's side purloins a coat of hair;
A mottled ensign of his harmless trade,
An unambitious, peaceable cockade.
As unambitious too that cheerful aid,

The mistress yields beside her rosy maid;

With joy she views her plenteous reeking store,
And bears a brimmer to the dairy door;
Her cows dismissed, the luscious mead to roam,
Till eve again recalls them loaded home.

FARMER'S BOY-SPRING.

MAY.

'May, sweet May, again is come;
May, that frees the land from gloom,
O'er the laughing hedgerow side
She hath spread her treasures wide;
She is in the green wood shade,
Where the nightingale hath made
Every branch and every tree
Ring with her sweet melody.

Hill and dale are May's own treasures,
Youths! rejoice in sportive measures.
Sing ye, join the chorus gay,
Hail this merry, merry May !"

EARL CONRAD OF KIRCHBERRY.

Now that Scorpio has risen in the ecliptic, and that Aquila, the shield of Sobieski, and the Dolphin's Head, appear on the eastern horizon, the grass springs into strength and thickness, while the rich yellow buttercups relieve its universal green.

The corn also covers the arable land with its scattered and waving shoots; and the farmer, as he reposes for a few weeks after his spring-tide

toil, looks forward with anxious hope to the season of maturity. Orchises flowers in the long grass, cowslips, ragged robins, sweet woodroofs, and yellow rattles, give a pleasant smell; the hedges are white with beautiful and fragrant hawthorns, whose blossoms, as in honour of the month, are called May; the dog-rose too is there, and the honeysuckle with its sweet and elegant festoons; while beneath them, and along the sunny banks, a variety of sparkling flowers succeed the violet and primrose. In the garden borders, a train of lovely strangers, the oriental poppy, scarlet azalia, white piony, laurel-rose, flags, purple rhododendrons, tulips, geraniums, and china-roses, supersede the fair young flowers of the spring.

In Greece, the season is still more advanced, and the wheat harvest is already begun; while in Sweden, though most of the forest trees are in leaf, scarcely a single flower has opened to the sun; the cuckoo is but just returned, and the stork and swallow arrived on her shores.

Impelled by that unerring instinct, which induces certain of the migratory birds to revisit Britain, several species are now seen advancing to our hills. The ring-thrush, or ouzel, (turdus torquatus) is already on her way; she who frequents the highlands of Scotland, the north of England, and the mountains of Wales, builds her nest on Dartmoor,