r6a ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



Then there was the boy, who in the house was just 

 as still, gentle, and low-voiced as his father; a hoy 

 who disliked his books and crawled reluctantly to 

 school and took no part in games, but who had an 

 intense love of the wild, a desire to be always out of 

 doors by himself, following and watching the birds. 



I was like that myself at his age, but was more 

 happily placed, having no school to crawl to nor 

 miserable books to pore over. 



One day, just before leaving, I came in to my six- 

 o'clock meal, after a long spell on the heath, to find 

 my landlady as usual ready and even eager to listen 

 to anything I had to tell her. For she, too, at home in 

 her cottage, had been alone all day, except for a few 

 minutes when her boy came in at noon to swallow 

 his dinner and run off to the nearest wood or heath 

 to get as much time as possible before the clanging 

 of the school bell called him in again. Now every- 

 thing I ever told her about my rambles on the heath 

 had appeared to interest her in an extraordinary way. 

 She would listen to an account of where I had been, 

 to which old ditch, or barrow, or holly clump, also 

 what birds I had found there, and to the most trivial 

 incidents, as if to some wonderful tale of adventure; 

 she would listen in silence until I ended, when she 

 would ask a dozen questions to take me all over the 

 ground again and keep up the talk about the heath. 

 On this occasion she said more, telling me that the 

 heath had been very much to her; then little by little 

 she let out the whole story concerning her feeling 

 for it. It was the story of her life from the time of 



