Berkeley in May. 



generally unspotted, although occasion- 

 ally slightly dotted with points of brown. 



Continuing our walk, a flash of gold 

 crosses the road and disappears among 

 the thick growth of bushes. Thither 

 let us follow, where the summer warbler 

 is singing his high, vivacious crescendo 

 of song in a sudden outburst of joy. A 

 little, sharp, ^nt^ metallic tsit arrests our 

 attention as we pass through a clump of 

 scrub oaks. It is well to pause when a 

 new note greets the ear in the course of 

 a woodland ramble, and, with eyes alert, 

 await developments; for the birds are 

 always ready to display themselves to 

 the unobtrusive observer. A little, 

 brown, perky bird soon flirts into view 

 and greets us with a low, harsh, rasping 

 chatter, which at times changes to a more 

 guttural tone. We soon recognize our 

 old friend, the western house wren, 

 which is at home both in the woodland 

 and in our village gardens. 



Full of the beauty and wonder of the 

 life we have seen, we wend our way 

 177 



