THE FAERY YEAR 



nothing in finch language. To this chatter, as to 

 that of the starlings at roost time, every individual 

 in the flock appears to contribute. The sound 

 neither rises nor falls ; it preserves its dead level. 

 It is an absolute monotony. Only a few outlying 

 linnets may take a line of their own, and, instead of 

 adding an indistinguishable note to the bird babel, 

 sing a proper song for the red linnet, like the corn 

 bunting, is quite a January and February singer on 

 fine days. 



This finch and linnet monotony, like the star- 

 lings', seems to me to be the result of agreeable or 

 soothing feeling in the performers. But none of 

 these unanimous concerts among birds approaches 

 in interest and charm what in " The Glamour of 

 the Earth " I described as a linnet song-storm. It 

 has once been my fortune, and once the fortune of 

 a neighbour on another occasion, to hear this extra- 

 ordinary outburst. But if the performance I wit- 

 nessed was a storm, his was a tempest. Think of 

 thousands of birds, massed in a hedge in the lonely 

 downlands in late summer or autumn, suddenly 

 bursting into one torrent of song. This is what 

 happens at times among the linnets. Linnets are 

 exceedingly common birds in the South of England 

 now, and perhaps anybody who takes the trouble 

 to watch them in late summer after they have flocked 

 has a chance of being present at one of these song- 

 storms. No lover of nature who has heard it in 

 England will ever forget it. 



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