NUTTY AUTUMN. 147 



or stories, no one goes out to listen to it, children are 

 not taught to recognize it, and grown-up persons 

 are often quite unaware of it. I never once heard 

 a countryman, a labourer, a farmer, or any one who 

 was always out of doors, so much as allude to it. 

 They never noticed it, so much is every one the pro- 

 duct of habit. 



The first swallow they looked for, and never missed ; 

 but they neither heard nor saw the chiffchaff. To 

 those who make any study at all of birds it is, of 

 course, perfectly familiar ; but to the bulk of people 

 it is unknown. Yet it is one of the commonest of 

 migratory birds, and sings in every copse and hedge- 

 row, using loud, unmistakable notes. At last, in 

 the middle of September, the chiffchaff, too, is silent. 

 The swallow remains ; but for the rest, the birds 

 have flocked together, finches, starlings, sparrows, 

 and gone forth into the midst of the stubble far from 

 the place where their nests were built, and where they 

 sang, and chirped, and whistled so long. 



The swallows, too, are not without thought of going. 

 They may be seen twenty in a row, one above the 

 other, or on the slanting ropes or guys which hold up 

 the masts of the rickcloths over the still unfinished 

 <jornricks. They gather in rows on the ridges of the 

 tiles, and wisely take counsel of each other. Books 

 are up at the acorns ; they take them from the bough, 

 while the pheasants come underneath and pick up 

 those that have fallen. 



The partridge coveys are more numerous and larger 

 than they have been for several seasons, and though 

 shooting has now been practised for more than a fort- 



