46 Oxford : Spring and Early Summer. 



I saw the Chiff-chaff, and March 23 as the first 

 on which I heard him. The next year, the month 

 of March being less genial, I looked and listened 

 in vain till the 3ist. On that day I made a cir- 

 cuit round a wood to its sunny side, sheltered well 

 from east and north, and entering for a little way 

 one of these grassy ' rides ' which are the delight 

 of all wood-haunting birds, I stood quite still and 

 listened. First a Robin, then a Chaffinch broke 

 the silence ; a Wood-pigeon broke away through 

 the boughs ; but no Chiff-chaff. After a while I 

 was just turning away, when a very faint sound 

 caught my ear, which I knew I had not heard 

 for many months. I listened still more keenly, 

 and caught it again ; it was the prelude, the pre- 

 liminary whisper, with which I have noticed that 

 this bird, in common with a few others, is wont to 

 work up his faculties to the effort of an outburst of 

 song. In another minute that song was resounding 

 through the wood. 



No one who hails the approach of spring as 

 the real beginning of a new life for men and 

 plants and animals, can fail to be grateful to this 

 little brown bird for putting on it the stamp and 



