196 NATURE IN DOWNLAND 



on a level with my open bedroom window. Very early 

 one morning a half-dressed, dirty-looking little boy 

 rushed out of the cottage opposite, and seizing hold of 

 a passing dog began to tease and drag it about ; the 

 dog after a few minutes escaped out of his hands and 

 ran away. Then the naughty boy, looking round for 

 something else to exercise his energies on, caught sight 

 of the crowd of martins high above him, and began to 

 shout at them to make them fly. Then he tried to 

 climb up by one of the posts, but always after getting 

 up a few feet slipped down. His next move was to 

 get a stick and beat loudly on the telegraph pole, and 

 when all these efforts had failed he fell to shouting 

 again, and shouted and yelled so loudly and persist- 

 ently that his mother, crazed by the noise, at length 

 rushed forth and hunted him in. The martins had 

 quietly sat out the whole performance. 



It is curious to see in rural districts how the tele- 

 graph line from being, like the lighthouse, a danger to 

 birds, killing and maiming considerable numbers, has 

 in time grown to be an advantage to them, affording a 

 convenient perch and lofty lookout which many species 

 habitually prefer to trees and bushes. It has become 

 natural to them, as if we had supplied a real want in 

 their lives, an omission of nature. So, too, it is curious 

 to note that the long line of tall straight poles and 

 suspended wires, which one would imagine to be 

 nothing but a disfigurement to the landscape, 

 fit into it at many points so admirably as to be an 



