After they had flown, the introduced songsters were observed for some time about the vicinity; but in September, the usual period for the departure of the species, they disappeared, and never returned to the place of their birth.
The like disappointment attended a similar essay to introduce the species into South Wales. A few years ago a gentleman of Gower, the peninsula beyond Swansea, procured some scores of young Nightingales from Norfolk and Surrey, "hoping that an acquaintance with his beautiful woods and their mild climate would induce a second visit, but the law of nature was too strong for him, and not a single bird returned."[1]
Like most of our summer visitors, the male Nightingales arrive in their migration several days before the females, and commence their song immediately. The London bird-catchers are doubly diligent at this time, aware that the males captured after they have obtained mates either do not survive the confinement, or at least continue silent. It frequents the hedge-rows and copses rather than the large woods; around London, the extensive grounds of the market-gardeners are favourite resorts with it. The nest is built either on or near the ground, among decaying leaves, and is rather loosely constructed of dried grass and slender root-fibres. The eggs are of an uniform olive hue, without spots: the young, in their first plumage, are mottled, as in the Thrushes. The song of the parents ceases as soon as the young are hatched, early in June.
The melody of the Nightingale, uttered as it is, though not exclusively, during the solemn
- ↑ Yarell's Brit. Birds, i. 303.
