2i8 ODD HOURS WITH NATURE 



clear when one night the whole flock reappeared 

 on their old ground, and resumed their old habits 

 with all the old airs of confidence and owner- 

 ship. And then, of course, the whole mystery 

 was plain as print. They had been away for their 

 holiday, and, plebeian birds though they are, had 

 chosen for it the aristocratic holidaymaking-time 

 of the year. Just about the date when the grouse- 

 shooters were making for the moors, to drive the 

 town vapours from their lungs by copious inhala- 

 tion of ozone and the scent of blooming heather, 

 the town sparrows shook the dust of the streets 

 from their wings and made for the fields. Perhaps 

 they held a parliament of their own on the pear- 

 tree, and discussed the cause and cure of that 

 " tired feeling " and speculated on the benefits 

 of country air and food. Mrs. Sparrow may have 

 remarked that caterpillars were getting too big 

 and gross on the urban cabbage -patches, and that 

 now the family was up and doing for itself they 

 might all indulge in a little change. Mrs. Sparrow 

 may have thought that a short experience of the 

 simple life, a few weeks " back to Nature " before 

 facing the winter, would set them all up and 

 save doctors' bills. Whatever they may have 

 thought, off they all went ; and now back they all 

 are, looking brown and fit, chirping with the hearti- 

 ness of birds which have done themselves well, 

 and ready to declare that, though the country is 

 all very fine for a spell, after all the town's the 

 place. 



The farmers, especially those whose holdings 

 lie within eight or ten miles of a large town, 



