THE BIRDS OF COWSLIP CORNER 163 



with my stick, but not the bird. I stooped 

 down to pick it up, but with a plaintive 

 cry it dragged itself along the ground. 

 I followed, still trying to capture it. Just 

 out of my reach it kept, crying piteously, 

 and with that broken wing hanging limp 

 by its side. When I had followed for 

 over twenty yards, I cried, " I will capture 

 you," and jumped forward. So did the 

 bird ! Suddenly she changed, no longer 

 was she a wounded bird, and flew up with 

 a jaunty flight, settled on a high branch, 

 and with a few lively notes asked me how 

 I liked being " had." The Whitethroat 

 had played a clever ruse, and attracted 

 the supposed enemy away from her 

 precious eggs. 



Each spring the Thrushes had their 

 nests in Cowslip Corner, and from the 

 time when the blue and white violets 

 peeped above the green grass, until the 

 wild roses had faded from the bushes, their 

 songs were heard. In one small bush a 



