whitened and strewed with nesting-litter, while Herring Gulls cackle about their nesting ledges, and Ringed Plover and Oyster-catchers betake themselves to the shell-beaches and shingle-banks to scratch out the artless hollows which serve them as nests.
Putting aside abnormal instances which furnish the regular crop of "early nesting" paragraphs to the newspapers, recording how some ill-advised robin or thrush has been found sitting upon eggs in Christmas week, it may safely be said that the Heron and the Raven are the earliest of our native birds to breed. Even in January, if the weather is open, Herons resort to their nests, and in the mild climate of the south of Ireland young are often hatched by the first of March. Though the solitary fisher is no longer protected as royal game, there are at the present day few counties which cannot boast one or more heronries. One of these, if visited in the breeding-season, presents a scene full of interest and animation. The tree-tops are studded with the great nests, off which the sitting birds come awkwardly scuffling, each as it gets fairly under weigh, taking a turn round overhead, crying "kronk," or "kraak," and making such uncanny noises as herons only can. Other old birds stand, gaunt and angular, upon their nests, spots of blue grey against the dark foliage of pine or fir. The young in the nests clap their bills loudly; older ones stand upright, steadying themselves awkwardly with
