1 1 6 Afuone' the Birds ifi Northern Shires. 



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the thickets of briar and bramble; the Grasshopper 

 Warbler may be heard where the vegetation is most 

 tangled, reeling off his seemingly interminable chirp- 

 ing song, if in reality it is worthy of such a name 

 in the company of so many more sweet- voiced 

 choristers. The Stonechat, gay in his black-and- 

 white and chestnut livery, perches on the topmost 

 sprays of the cruel-thorned gorse and eyes us sus- 

 piciously, with a nicking tail and a harsh tac of 

 welcome or resentment. The equally beautiful 

 Linnet, with swollen carmine breast, bears him 

 company amongst the gorse; whilst the Yellow 

 Bunting may not unfrequently be noticed crying 

 his few monotonous notes time after time, and as 

 often answered by some rival near at hand, both 

 of them perched as high as possible on the stunted 

 thorns or the silver-barked birches. All through 

 the early summer the cheery notes of the Cuckoo 

 (not a Passere, by the way) are a familiar sound on 

 or near these heaths, and now and then the blue- 

 gray bird himself, looking all wings and tail, may be 

 seen skimming across to the distant belt of trees, 

 or his mate may be watched poking about the 

 thickets in a suspicions sort of way seeking some 

 unprotected nest in which to drop her alien o.^^. 

 One bird, however, we miss from these northern 

 heaths in particular, and that is the Dartford 

 Warbler. He seldom penetrates as far north as 



