Is not this a beautiful bird, though rather singular in its appearance? To see it in perfection we should have to travel at least as far as Sardinia, and possibly to Africa, its native country. Observe its wonderfully long and slender legs. They are so formed as to enable it to wade into morasses, or even rivers, in quest of food, but it can also swim, when so disposed, being perfectly web-footed. The beak of the flamingo is not less remarkable than its legs, and it seems puzzling, until we know the truth, how the bird can gather up its food from mud and water, with that awkward turned-in bill. But the fact is, that the flamingo feeds very differently to other birds, turning the back of its head to the ground, and spooning up the mud or water in which it finds its sustenance with the upper mandible. It is able to do this very easily from the unusual length of its neck, and the beak is provided with the means of filtering the mud, as I told you that of the duck is also. But in this instance the apparatus provided is said to act more like the whalebone sieve possessed by the whale. The brilliant plumage of the flamingo is very beautiful. M. de la Marmora, in his "Voyage to Sardinia," speaks in great admiration of the effect produced by a flock of flamingoes in the air. These birds are gregarious—that is, they live in large companies, and when returning from Africa to the borders of a lake, which is one of their favourite haunts, near Cagliari, all the inhabitants are attracted by the splendour of their appearance. Like a triangular band of fire in the air, they gradually come onwards, until within sight of the lake. Poised on the wing for an instant, they hang motionless over the end of their weary flight; then, by a slow circular movement, they trace a spiral descent and range themselves like a line of soldiers in battle array upon the borders of the lake. But no one dares approach them more nearly, for the air from the lake is at this season, though perfectly harmless to the flamingo, deadly poison to a human creature.

Taught by God, the flamingo has, however, another means of security than the malaria from the intrusion which its brilliant colouring would be sure to draw upon it. In other respects, besides its red coat, it has been compared to the soldier. When feeding or resting (which they do on one leg, the other drawn up close to the body, and the head under the wing), the flamingoes are drawn up in lines, and sentinels, very watchful ones too, are placed to guard these shy and cautious birds. At the first appearance of danger, the sentinel flamingo utters a loud cry, much resembling the sound of a trumpet, upon which the whole flock instantly takes flight, and always in the form of a triangle.

Do not you think sitting on her eggs must be rather cramping work for the flamingo with those long legs? But I will tell you how cleverly she contrives. Instead of building a nest on the ground, where she would find it impossible to cower closely enough over her eggs to keep them warm, the flamingo heaps up a hill of earth so high, that she can sit comfortably upon it with her long legs dangling, one on each side. At the top is a hollow just large enough to hold her two or three white eggs. A full-grown flamingo stands between five and six feet high. There is another species of this bird much smaller, called the little flamingo. The Romans ate these birds, and Heliogabalus, the profane Emperor, delighted in a dish of their tongues, which are large, considering the size of the bird. In modern times, however, the flesh is rejected as fishy, but the feathers are highly valued.