The Weekly register., 1843-08-05
The Quail.


article, and would not mind, moreover,
lending q lick ourselves at the murder
Gus darkey whom he SO justly anathem-
ICES. The article is, We believe, from
an old number Of the Knickerbocker
Some Dissertations concerning Quals.
The Quail is the bird for ne. He is
no rover, no emigrant. He stays at
home, and is Identified with the SOIL
Where the farmer works, he lives, and
loves, and whistles. In budding spring
time and in scorching summer, in boun-
teous autumn and in barren winter, his
voice is heard from the same bushy
hedgelence and from his customary
cedars. Cupidity and cruelty may
drive him to the woods, and to seek
more quiet seats; but be mercifaI and
kind to him, and he will visit your barn
yard, and sing for you upon he boughs
Of your appletree by your gateway
But when warm May first woos the
young flowers 10 open and receive her
breath, then begin the loves, and jeal-
ou5ies, and daeIs Of the heroes of the
bcvy. Duels. too often, alas! bloody
and fatal; for there liyeth not an iEdi-
yidual Of gallinaceous order, brayer,
bolder, more enduring than cock quail
fighting for his lady love. Arms, too,
he wieldeth such as gives no vain blows,
rightly used. His mandible serves for
other purposes than mere biting Of grass
hoppers and picking up Indian corn
When the dire afIray RACES Miss Quail
ina looketh on from her safe perch on a
limb above the combatants, impartial
speclatress, holding her love under her
left wing patiently; and when the van
wished craven finally bites the dust
descends and rewards the conquering
hero with her heart and hand
Now begins the cares and RESPONSE
biIities of welded life. Away fly the
happg pair to seek some grassy tussock,
where safe from the eye Of the hawk
and the nose Of the fox, they may rear
their expected brood in peace; provi-
dent, and not doubling their espousais
will be blessed with numerous off
spring. Oat harvest arrives, and the
fields ere waving with yellow grain
Now be ware, on kind hearted Grader!
and tread not into these pure white eggs
ready to burst with life Soon there
is a peePing sound heard, and 10! proud
mother walketh magnifcentIy in the
midst Of her children, scratching and
picking, and teaching them how to swaI-
low. Happy she if she be permitted to
bring them up to maturity, and uncom-
PEELED to renew her joys in another nest.
The assiduities of a mother have a
beauty and sacredness about them that
command respect and reverence in all
animal nature, human or inhuman--
what lie does that word carry--ex-
cept, perhaps in monsters, insects and
fish. | neTer yet heard of the parental
tenderness of trout, eating up his little
baby, nor the flial gratitude of spi
der, nipping the life out of his gray
headed father, and usurping his web.
But if you would see the purest, the
sincerest, the most affecting piety of
parents love, startle a young family
Of quails, and watch the conduct Of the
mothers She will not leave you. No,
not she. But she will fall at your feet,
uttering noise which none but a dis
tressed mother can make, and she viii
run and seem to try to be caught, and
cheat your outstretched hand, and affect
to be wing-broken and wounded, and
yet have just strengh enough to tumble
along, until she has drawn ou, fatigued,
safe distance from her threatened
children and the young hopes Of her
heart; and then she will mount, whir- |
ring with glad strength, and away
through the maze 81 the trees you have
not seen before, like close shot bullet,
fly to her skulking infants. Listen now.
Do you hear those three halfplaintive
notes, quickly and clearly poured out?
she is calling the boys and girls togeth-
er. She sings not now bob White"
nor nAh. Bob Mhite.', That is her