Philomel 53 



flock of waterfowl flying high and viewless in the dark, 

 with cries that seem born of ice and ocean : that is to 

 catch a true expression of melancholy. A mounting 

 skylark seems to find ecstasy in singing for singing's 

 sake, and to find it all the year through, with but the 

 shortest interlude for moulting. But the nightingale's 

 is only a tale of fiery and concentrated passion. He 

 does not rove like the cuckoo, proclaiming his enjoy- 

 ment. At the mating season he begins, and he ends 

 when nesting is over. May is the month of months 

 for him. Year after year he comes back to the same 

 grove ; and, listening, you may well believe that the 

 same twig is his perch for hours. Sunlight inspires 

 him not, nor food ; only darkness and desire. If you 

 suck melancholy from his note, be sure it is but the 

 burden of your own sadness you are casting upon him ; 

 and if his effect be one of merriment, then are you 

 revelling in the laughter of your own glad heart. 



KNAPPING FLINTS 



IN days when the schoolboy, whose practice has 

 been limited to rooks and rabbits, deems a muzzle- 

 loader antediluvian, it is safe to say that, interesting 

 as the making of gun-flints is, the most striking thing 

 about it is that it should continue to exist at all. 

 And yet it is a most flourishing and active industry. 



