KXTRACTS FROM CORRKSPONDENOE. 123 



built in the segs, but often in the hawthorn bushes three or four feet 

 above the water. 



Wood-pigeons were cooing in all directions, and have become suddenly 

 almost tame, not keeping so much in flocks, but one or two flying out of 

 almost every tree; several came within easy gun-shot of me — how different 

 this boldness from their extreme caution at other seasons. I beard, too, 

 the hoarse laugh of the Green Woodpecker for the first time to-day; they 

 are mute and sulky during the winter, they have then enough to do to 

 maintain themselves; but now they. appear quite lively, and fly about with 

 their peculiar wavy motion from one tree to another, laughing with delight 

 at the thought that insect food will so soon abound again, and furnish 

 sustenance for themselves and young. I cannot say that their note is a 

 pleasing one, but still I like to hear it; it is the voice of a bird, and 

 reminds one of returning spring. 



Farther on in my walk, having crossed the brook at the mill, and return- 

 ing towards home on the other side, I came to a Rookery which has existed 

 probably from the '^^time whereof the memory of man runneth" not to the 

 contrary; the nests are always built in the very highest branches of some 

 noble old elms, and never lower down than some ten or a dozen feet 

 from the top, the consequence is, that, as in the old Rookery at Rugby, 

 the first high wind destroys the work of weeks, blowing many nests quite 

 out of the trees, and overturning many more. 



I was much pleased with the account in your last letter of your first 

 spring walk; I took mine a few weeks back, and though the season was 

 then not very far advanced, yet 1 trust you may think some of the 

 incidents I met with worthy of a passing note. I took the train to a 

 village about six miles distant, and started ofi^ through some woods, which 

 stretch around for a great distance, principally oak and fir, and abounding 

 with interest in all the branches of our kindred pursuit. Here, while 

 walking on the sunny side of a small bank, I heard a slight rustling at 

 my feet, and on looking down observed a little mouse running and snuffing 

 about the green leaves; presently it broke off" one from a piece of ground 

 ivy, and disappeared with it in its mouth down a hole, pleased enough no 

 doubt at having found so soft a lining for its nest; this was repeated several 

 times while I was standing close to. 



A little further on I came to the nest of the large Red Ant, (Formica 

 rufa,) a great pest in these woods. The nests of these little creatures are 

 wonderfully large considering their size, composed of dried leaves, sticks, 

 straws, and rubbish; they sometimes attain the height of four feet and 

 upwards. All day long in the warm summer season, those Ants may be 

 seen incessantly toiling in a straight line up and down the stems of the 

 oak or fir trees near, seizing on any luckless fly that may happen to settle 



