60 BIRDS AND MAN 



in all the country where (if I were compelled to live 

 in towns) life would not seem something of a burden ; 

 and of these, two are in Somerset — Bath and Wells. 

 Of the former something will be said further on : 

 Wells has the first place in my affections, and is the 

 one town in England the sight of which in April and 

 early May, from a neighbouring hill, has caused me 

 to sigh with pleasure. Its cathedral is assuredly 

 the loveliest work of man in this land, supremely 

 beautiful, even without the multitude of daws that 

 make it their house, and may be seen every day 

 in scores, looking like black doves perched on the 

 stony heads and hands and shoulders of that great 

 company of angels and saints, apostles, kings, queens, 

 and bishops, that decorate the wonderful west front. 

 For in this building — not viewed as in a photograph 

 or picture, nor through the eye of the mere architect 

 or archaeologist, who sees the gem but not the setting 

 — nature and man appear to have worked together 

 more harmoniously than in others. 



But it is hard to imagine a birdless Wells. The 

 hills, beautiful with trees and grass and flowers, 

 come down to it ; cattle graze on their slopes ; the 

 peewit has its nest in their stony places, and the 

 kestrel with quick-beating wings hangs motionless 

 overhead. Nature is round it, breathing upon and 



