Daily national Democrat., 1861-01-20
The Quail


New England States, and has quick OBJ
serving eye, produces the following on the
Quail 1t is good but sounds familia, too.-
We find it in the Humboldt Times:
The quail is the bird for me- lie is no ro-
yer, no emgrant. lie 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 scorchingo sum
mer, in boppteoiisautumn aud in barren win
ter, his voice IS heard from the same bushy
hedge fence andtrom his customary cedars.
Cnpdity andacruelty may drive him to the
woods, and to seek, more quiet seats; but be
merciful and kind to.him and he will visit
your barn yard, and viii sing for you upon
the boughs of your apple tree and by your
gate way. But when warm May first woes
the young flowers to open and receive her
breath, then begins the loves and iealousies
and duels of the heroes of the bevy. Duels
too often, alas bloody and fatal for their
liyeth not an individual of the gallinaceous
order, brayer, bo)der, more enduring than a
cock quail fighting for his lady love. Arms,
too, he wieldeth, such as give no vain blows,
rightly used. His mandible serves for other
purposes than mere biting of grasshoppers
and picking up of Indian corn. While the
dire atfray RACES, Miss Quailina looketh on
from her safe perch on limb above the COM
batants impartial spectatress, holding her
love under under her left wing patiently, and
when the vanquished craven finally bites the
dust, descends and rewards the conquering
hero with her heart and hand.
Now begin the cares and responsibilities
OF welded life Away fly the happy pair to
seek some grassy tussock, where safe from
the eyes Of the hawk and the nose of the fox,
they may rear their expected brood in peace,
provident and not doubling their espousals
will be blessed with numerous Offspring
But harvest arrives and the fields are waving
with yellow grain. Now be wary, oh, kind
hearted Grader and tread not into those
pure white eggs ready to burst into life -
Soon there is peeping heard and 10
proud mother walketh magniicently in the
midst OF her children, scratching and picking
and teaching them how to swallow Happi-
ly if she be permitted TO bring them to ma
turity, and uncompelled to renew herjoys in
another nest.
The assiduities of mother have beauty
and sacredness about them that command
respect and reverence in all animal nature,
human or inhuman-what lie does that
word dcarry- perhaps in monsters, in
insects and fish. l never yet heard of the pa
rental tenderness of trout, eating up her
little baby, nor of the filial gratitude of a
spider, nipping the life out of his gray hair
ed father, and usurping his web. But if you
would see the purest the sineerest, the most
affecting piety of parents love, startle a
young family of quails and watch the con-
duet of the mother. She will not leave you.
No, not she. She will fall at your feet, ut
tering noise which none but distressed
mother can make, ard she will run and fut-
ter and seem to try to be caught and cheat
your outstretched hand, and affect to Wbe
wing broken and wounded, and vet have
st; ength enough to tumble along, until she
has drawn you. fatigued safe distance from
her threatened children and the young hopes
| of her heart and then she will mount whirl-
ing with glad strength, and away through
the maze of trees you have seen before; and
like close shot bullet, fly skulking innants
Listen now ! Do you hear those three half
plaintive notes quickly and clearly poured
out? She is calling the boys and girls to-
! gether. She sings not now Bob Whitel" or
l&Ah, Bob ~Whitel" That is her husbands
loye-cail, or his trumpet blast of defiance -
Butshe calls sweetly and softly for her lost
children. Hear them peep peep! peep p
at the welcome voice of their mothers love |!
They are coming together Soon the whole
family viii meet agBin. 1t is foul sin to
disturb them but retread your devious way
and let her hear your coming footsteps break
down the briars as you renew the danger
She is quiet; not a word is passed between
the fearful fpgitiVes. Now, if you have the
heart to do it, lie low, keep still and initiate
the call of the hen quail. Oh, mother
mother how your heart would die if you
could witness the deception The little ones
raise their trembling heads, and catch COM
fort and imagine safety from the sound
Peep peepP they come to you. straining
their little eyes, and clustering together, and
answering, seem to say, "Where is she .
| Mother mother! we are herel"
knew an Ethiopian once, he lives yet in
hovel on the brush plains of Matowacs-
who called n whole bevy together in that
way. He first shot the parent bird; and
when the murderous villain had ranged them
in close company, while they were looking
over each others necks, and mingling their
doubts and hopes and distresses, in little
circle, he leveled his cursed musket at their
unhappy breasts, and butchered-"W hat I;
all my little ones? Did you say all ?" He
did, and he lives yeti Oh, let me not meet
| that niger six miles north of Patchogue, in
place where the scrub oaks cover with cav
ernous gloom sudden precipice, at whose
1 bottom lies a deep lake, unknown but to
wake and the lost deer hunter For my
souls sake let me not encounter him in the
| grim rayines of the Callicoon, in Sullivan,
where the everlasting darkness of the hem
lock forests would sanctify virtuous murder !