102 SPRING 



almost as striking a silence. The birds are now busy at their 

 morning meal, and dispersed about their feeding grounds 

 with a boldness which they lose later in the day. Then, if it 

 is still early in the month, and there is nest-building to be 

 done, they fall to work and finish the greater part of their 

 day's task before the sun is high. Soon the first thrushes 

 and blackbirds are singing again ; and by eight or nine 

 o'clock the nightingale and the whole army of birds are in 

 full tide of song, which dies down but little until the late 

 afternoon. From about five o'clock to sunset there is com- 

 parative quiet, though the blackbird's and a few other voices 

 strike sweetly through the mellowing light. Now the birds 

 are busy feeding before going to roost ; and since the finches 

 and sparrows, with their lively songs and cries, keep earlier 

 hours than most other birds, the voices of the birds at even- 

 ing are more restful than those of noon or the early day. As 

 the last rays of the sun slope down, the nightjar takes heart 

 to increase his rare and occasional soliloquy of midday for 

 his full evening murmur. Now, too, the nightingales throb 

 forth in the thicket, as the air begins to smell of cool grass and 

 gathering dews ; their passion outlasts the sunset and the 

 evening song of the thrushes, and they answer one another far 

 and near in the renewed silence of night. 



CORNCRAKE 



