THE SUMMER HERALDS 



IF the cuckoo, the swallow, and the nightjar 

 be pre-eminently the birds of Summer (though, 

 truly, the swift, the flycatcher, and the corn- 

 crake have as good a title) the rear-guard of 

 Spring may be said to be the house-martin, the 

 cushat, and the turtle. Even the delaying 

 wheatear, or the still later butcher-bird may 

 have come, and yet Sweep -Sweep may not 

 have been heard about the eaves of old houses 

 or under and over the ruined clay of last year's 

 nests ; the cushat's voice may not have become 

 habitual in the greening woods ; and the tire- 

 less wings of the turtle may not have been 

 seen clipping the invisible pathways between 

 us and the horizons of the south. But, when 

 these come, we know that Spring has traversed 

 the whole country, and is now standing ankle- 

 deep in thrift and moondaisies in the last rocky 

 places fronting the north sea. No one doubts 

 that summer is round the corner when the 



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