300 BIRDS AND MAN 



It would be my turn to smile now — a smile for 

 a smile — and silence would follow. And so, with 

 the dispersal of this little cloud, there would be an 

 end of the colloquy, and each would go his way : 

 one to be re-absorbed into the grey stones and long 

 grass, the ancient yew-tree, the wooded Hanger ; 

 the other to pursue his walk to the neighbouring 

 parish of Liss, almost ready to believe as he went 

 that the interview had actually taken place. 



It only remains to say that the smile (my smile) 

 would have been at the expense of some modern 

 editors of the famous Letters, rather than at that 

 of my interlocutor. They are astonished at Gilbert 

 White's vitality, and cannot find a reason for it. 

 Why does this " little cockle-shell of a book," as 

 one of them has lately called it, come gaily down to 

 us over a sea full of waves, where so many brave 

 barks have foundered ? The style is sweet and 

 clear, but a book cannot hve merely because it is 

 well written. It is chock-full of facts ; but the facts 

 have been tested and sifted, and all that were worth 

 keeping are to be found incorporated in scores of 

 standard works on natural history. I would humbly 

 suggest that there is no mystery at all about it ; 

 that the personality of the author is the principal 

 charm of the Letters, for in spite of his modesty 



