Coming back from the waterside through the 

 wood, after the hottest hours of the day were 

 over, the crooning of the turtle-doves would be 

 heard again on every side — that summer beech- 

 wood lullaby that seemed never to end. The 

 other bird voices were of the willow-wren, the 

 wood-wren, the coal-tit, and the now somewhat 

 tiresome chiffchaff; from the distance would come 

 the prolonged rich strain of the blackbird, and 

 occasionally the lyric of the chaffinch. The song 

 of this bird gains greatly when heard from a tall 

 tree in the woodland silence; it has then a 

 resonance and wildness which it appears to lack 

 in the garden and orchard. In the village I had 

 been glad to find that the chaffinch was not too 

 common, that in the tangle of minstrelsy one 

 could enjoy there his vigorous voice was not pre- 

 dominant. 



so 



