238 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



rectory he took me round the house to where a large 

 French window opened on the lawn and a shrubbery 

 beyond. "This," he said, "is the drawing-room, and 

 my wife, who was very delicate, used always to sit 

 there behind the window on account of the aspect. 

 We had a nightingale then; we had always had him 

 since I came to this parish many years ago. He was 

 a most beautiful singer, and every morning, as long 

 as the singing time lasted, he would perch on that 

 small tree on the edge of the lawn, directly before 

 the window, and sing for an hour or two at a stretch. 

 We were very proud of our bird and thought him 

 better than any nightingale we had ever heard. And 

 he was the only one in the neighbourhood; you 

 would have had to go a mile to find another. 



"One morning about eleven o'clock I was writing 

 in my study at the other side of the house, when my 

 wife came in to me looking pale and distressed, and 

 said a strange thing had happened. She was sitting 

 at her work behind the closed window when a little 

 bird had dashed violently against the glass; then it 

 had flown a little distance away and, turning, dashed 

 back against the glass as at first; and again it flew 

 off, only to turn and strike the glass even more 

 violently than before; then she saw it fall fluttering 

 down and feared it had injured itself badly. I went 

 quickly out to look, and found the bird, our night- 

 ingale, lying gasping and shivering on the stone step 

 beneath the window. I picked it up and held it to 

 the air in my open hand; but in two or three seconds 

 it was dead. 



