A BEOOK. 61 



A little earlier in the year the chattering of magpies 

 would have been heard while looking for the signs 

 of spring, but they were now occupied with their 

 nests. There are several within a short distance, 

 easily distinguished in winter, but somewhat hidden 

 now by the young leaves. Just before they settled 

 down to housekeeping there was a great chattering 

 and fluttering and excitement, as they chased each 

 other from elm to elm. 



Four or five were then often in the same field, some 

 in the trees, some on the ground, their white and black 

 showing distinctly on the level brown earth recently 

 harrowed or rolled. On such a surface birds are 

 visible at a distance ; but when the blades of the corn 

 begin to reach any height such as alight are concealed. 

 In many districts of the country that might be called 

 wild and lonely, the magpie is almost extinct. Once 

 now and then a pair may be observed, and thoie 

 who know their haunts can, of course, find them, 

 but to a visitor passing through, there seems none. 

 But here, so near the metropolis, the magpies are 

 common, and during an hour's walk their cry is 

 almost sure to be heard. They have, however, their 

 favourite locality, where they are much more fre- 

 quently seen. 



Coming to my seat under the aspen by the bridge 

 week after week, the burdocks by the wayside 

 gradually spread their leaves, and the procession of 

 the flowers went on. The dandelion, the lesser 

 celandine, the marsh marigold, the coltsfoot, all 

 yellow, had already led the van, closely accompanied 

 by the purple ground-ivy, the red dead nettle, and the 



