INCLHE, NORTH OF KENT gI 
in a tree in the densest part of the wood. The 
shy birds themselves were nowhere to be 
seen, so we could not determine whether 
the hole was the work of the green or the 
Steat, spotted, woodpecker «(see Part: 1, p. 
82), but it was most probably that of the 
green species which is much the commoner 
here. From the dense sylvan retreats came 
the well-known notes of a nightingale, and 
we both agreed that he was the finest we had 
ever listened to. But somehow each nightin- 
gale one hears is always finer than the last ! 
He stopped singing as he heard the sticks 
crackling under our feet. But if we stood 
quite still he would recommence his lays. 
He had a nest there I am sure, but it would 
have taken much searching to find it in the 
tangled undergrowth or the thick bushes. 
A Frenchman has put the song of the nightin- 
gale into words thus: ‘Le Bon Dieu m’a 
donné une femme, que j’ai tant tant tant 
battue, mais s’Il me donne une autre, je ne 
la batterai plus plus qu’ un petit qu’ un petit 
qu’ un petit.’ (The good God has given me a 
