BIRDS OF THE FIELD 



A NARROW footpath runs by the side of the hedge 

 which is already white wdth may-blossom. To the 

 left of the path the mowing-grass is growing high, 

 and in many places the taller stems, weighted by 

 their burden of seed, bend over the little track 

 which is lost for a moment in a tunnel of green. 



Like w^ater hollowed by the wind, the grass grows 

 sparsely in some places, where the uplifted head of 

 a Partridge may be seen ; in others, the waves of 

 green rise higher, tinted bv the red plumes of the 

 sorrel and bv the vellow of innumerable butter- 

 cups, and here a bird is lost as a man might be in 

 a wood. The tangle is so dense that the eye soon 

 wearies of the attempt to distinguish even a few of 

 the infinite varieties of blade and stem. Over the 

 fragrant surface the butterflies flit. A dragon-fly, 

 plated in sapphire mail, comes, with wavering 

 flight, from the little pool by the oak-trees and 

 rests motionless on his filmy rainbow wings. For 

 a little time he waits, then he drifts swiftly away 

 as though blown by some secret wand. 



In the cool recesses of the grass, a myriad smaller 

 insects creep. Sometimes a lady-bird ascends a 

 tall, smooth stem as a sailor might climb a mast, 

 and surveys from the height the waving expanse of 

 green, or a bee, bending the stem by his w-eight, 



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