comes on this habit is lost, and the bird warbles from a lower perch, usually in the neighbourhood of his nest."
The Redstart has a very peculiar habit of shaking the lower portion of its body at intervals when stationary, quite different from the gentle, fanning, up and down movement of the tail that is associated with the Whinchat. The former seems to be periodically shaking out its feathers, somewhat after the manner of a Peacock, though, of course, on a much less obtrusive scale. The song in a general way, as I believe has been stated in my notice of the Whinchat, bears some resemblance to that of this latter bird. It has likewise a peculiarly rich, liquid note, occasionally heard when in flight, sounding in my ears like tu-ee, tu-ee, tu-ee, tu-ee, tu-ee.
However, to revert for one moment to its nesting site: the hole chosen is invariably a natural one; there is no such thing as artificially adapting it to its requirements, as is the case with some of the Woodpeckers. The nest itself is artlessly put together, and is formed of roots, small fibres, and dry grass, and frequently a little wool, and is lined with hair and occasionally a few feathers.
I do not see that we have any means of ascertaining whether or not this species is life-paired. Redstarts are, beyond question, very conservative in their regard for old haunts, but, considering it is generally admitted that the sexes do not migrate in company—the males usually preceding the females in the spring of the year—it must be purely a matter of speculation.
One other little point I would touch on before closing this sketch; it refers to the marked similarity between the alarm-note of the Redstart and that of the Chaffinch. It may possibly take a very skilful ear to discriminate between the two utterances, but I think it will be admitted that there is a more plaintive character about the alarm-note of the Redstart than is noticeable in the case of the other species; while the former also frequently emits a sound, two or three times quickly repeated, which resembles that form of annoyance in an individual so commonly expressed by the tongue and the teeth without the aid of language.
In the summer of 1896 I found a Redstart's nest, full of young, in a kettle hung on a nail in an old tumble-down shed near to Keythorpe. I have also known the species utilize a site just previously tenanted—with success in the matter of rearing their young—by a pair of Great Tits.
