BIED NOTES 



CHAPTEE I 



Sidinouth, Devon. 



I LIVE alone, surrounded by fields and trees ; and 

 the one large window of my quiet sitting-room 

 looks across the top of a verandah on to a lawn 

 and flower-beds full of roses, and full, therefore, 

 of the aphides that birds love so well. An unfre- 

 quented road lies beyond that ; then a row of fine 

 lime-trees and elms, a meadow, and a river. A 

 Devonshire stream it is, that comes and goes in its 

 red, rocky bed, with storm and sunshine ; some- 

 times thundering noisily over the weir ; sometimes 

 murmuring dreamily amongst the flints that are 

 brought down by freshets from the hills above ; 

 and sometimes, here and there, hiding almost out 

 of sight. A few days are sufficient to make the 

 difference. 



The graceful yellow wagtail loves our river, 

 and the splendid grey one is often to be seen there. 

 Both in summer and winter they haunt and 



B 



