50 THE HOME OF THE WILLOW-WREN 



or flies in and out among the upright wands 

 that fringe the marshy places in the meadow 

 where the kingcups grow, and garlands of 

 wind-flowers encircle oozy beds of reed and 

 sedge. One moment he is hidden on the far 

 side of the bramble ; the next, he reappears 

 near by, and alights on a twig above a blaze of 

 golden gorse. He now sings as loudly as his 

 small voice permits ; then, with a fliit of his 

 grey wings, hops down on the bank and in- 

 stantly vanishes. 



Noiselessly I move towards the spot where he 

 was last observed, for there is little doubt as to the 

 reason of his disappearance. On my approach he 

 flies up from the grass, and reveals the where- 

 abouts of his nest. The cattle, when leaving 

 their favourite drinking-pond for the fields above, 

 have with careless hoofs torn down the turf from 

 the bank, and at the end of one of the furrows 

 thus formed in the yielding soil the warbler has 

 found a depression exactly suited to his purpose. 

 His domed nest, perfectly concealed from every 

 casual visitor, is nearly complete ; in a few days 

 the feathery lining will be suitably adjusted, 

 and the first pearly egg will be deposited by his 

 dutiful spouse. Then he will be heard singing 

 more frequently than before ; and every rival 

 warbler in his neighbourhood will vie with him, 

 taking up the burden of his pleasing melody the 



