The preference of some birds, with less catholic taste than
our thrushes and chaffinches, for singing at particular hours is not easy to explain, and sometimes seems beyond marvelling at. Some young bird lovers of my acquaintance have just visited the queer and most fascinating island-of Skomer (which incidentally owns a rodent peculiar to itself) in order chiefly to hear the shearwater. They lay out to await the concert. The skirling began after the manner of the bird at midnight, when flocks flew overhead, and continued till 1.30 a.m. ; and it was generally confessed that about twenty minutes was as much as was endurable. On the subject of night singers the season has been richer in nightingale song than any I can remember; and has anyone ever heard the cuckoos more persistent in the very early hours, especially about 3 a.m. ? Not only the sleepless have suffered—or enjoyed. The birds have shouted loud enough to murder existing sleep.
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