Doves. 189 



where it Jbends more easily not a twig need be 

 broken, and nutting ma} 7 be enjoyed without doing 

 the least damage. 



Under a tall ash tree rising out of the hazel bushes, 

 and near the great hawthorn on the edge or shore of 

 the ditch, the grass grows rank and is of the deepest 

 green. The dove that could be heard cooing from 

 the orchard built her nest in the hawthorn, which, 

 where it overhangs the grass like a canopy, is bare 

 of boughs for six or seven feet up the gnarled stem. 

 The cattle, who love to shelter under it from the heat 

 of the sun, browsed on the young shoots, so that no 

 branch could form ; but on the side towards the ditch 

 there are immense spiny thorns, long enough and 

 strong enough to make a savage's arrow-head or awl. 

 The doves do not seem nearly so numerous as the 

 wood-pigeons (doves, too, in strict language) ; they 

 are much smaller, rather duller in color that is, when 

 flying past and are rarely seen more than two to- 

 gether. When the summer thunder is booming yon- 

 der over the hills, and the thin edge of the dark cloud 

 showers its sweet refreshing rain, with the sunshine 

 gleaming through on the hedge and grass here, be- 

 tween the rolling echoes the dove may be heard in 

 the bush coo-cooing still more softly and lovingly to 

 her mate. 



Just in the very angle formed by the meeting 

 hedges the ditch becomes almost a fosse, so broad 

 and deep ; the sandy banks have slipped, and the 

 rabbits have excavated more, and over all the bram- 

 bles have arched thickly with a background of brake- 

 fern. The flower of the bramble is very beautiful 

 a delicate pink bloom, succeeded by green berries, 



