THE BLACKCAP 
is one of the most pitiable of recent instances. In a 
belt of glorious shrubbery there the Blackcap could be 
heard in numbers all the summer through warbling 
deliciously, the Rooks cawing noisily in the trees over- 
head. ‘There the Goldcrest bred, 'Titmice and Creepers 
had their haunt, and the Thrush and Blackbird piped 
the livelong day. All is now laid bare and desolate ; in 
the meadows adjoining, some of the most magnificent 
timber round London has been felled; everything of 
beauty is given over to that arch-spoiler the speculative 
builder! The Blackcap reaches its London haunts 
about the middle of April, and its arrival is soon loudly 
proclaimed by its beautiful song; it migrates south 
again in September. ‘The favourite haunts of this 
Warbler are shrubberies, coppices in which plenty of 
brushwood clothes the ground, dense thickets and hedges, 
orchards and large gardens. It by no means confines 
itself to the thick growth, and often visits the trees, or 
sits and sings on some exposed spray; but it is fond of 
cover, and like all its kindred threads its way through the 
branches with celerity, from time to time uttering a 
harsh tec-tec as if of warning or defiance. ‘The song of 
this Warbler is flute-like and beautiful in the extreme— 
not even the Nightingale rivals it for sweetness or variety. 
If undisturbed the bird will continue in song for minutes 
at a time, and it is then one can realise the wonderful 
compass and power of his matchless melody. He con- 
tinues in voice until the young are reared, ceasing with 
the approach of the autumn moult. The food of this 
Warbler consists largely of insects and larve, but fruit 
is eagerly sought, and even the berries of the ivy and 
the yew. It begins nesting early in May, building its 
home amongst the dense thickets and hedgerows. ‘The 
nest is a beautifully neat and rounded cup, slightly put 
together, made externally of grass stalks, flakes of moss, 
roots, and lined with horsehair. As is the case with most 
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