2i8 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



jure a shilling out of my pocket. In the end we 

 quarrelled and I went away regretting I had met her, 

 seeing that her unpleasing image would be associated 

 in my mind with the picture of Yetminster — its noble, 

 ancient church standing in its wide green space, sur- 

 rounded by old stone-built thatched houses with valerian 

 and ivy-leaved toad-flax and wallflower growing on the 

 crumbling walls. 



At Ryme Intrinsica I was more fortunate. It was 

 a charming village with stone cottages, as is usual in 

 that stone country, and a pretty little church standing 

 in the middle of a green and flowery churchyard. Here 

 there were several small yew trees, and no sooner had 

 I got inside the gate than out fluttered a goldfinch in 

 brilliant feather, emitting his sharpest alarm note. 

 Then from trees and bushes all round where they had 

 been concealed, more goldfinches fluttered forth, until 

 there were twelve, all loudly protesting against my 

 presence at that spot, flitting from tree to tree and 

 perching on the terminal twigs within three or four 

 yards of my head. Never had I seen goldfinches so 

 excited, so bold in mobbing a man: I could only suppose 

 that very few visitors came into that secluded church- 

 yard, where they were breeding, and doubtless, a stranger 

 in the place was a much more alarming figure to them 

 than the parson or any of the native villagers would 

 have been. But it was a new and delightful experience 

 to find so many pairs breeding together, making their 

 nests within reach of a man's hand. 



Now as I stood there watching the birds I by chance 



