September in the Woods 173 



fluttering and hurrying, tell that the first was no soli- 

 tary wanderer. In the early part of the season the jay 

 keeps to the thickest and most secluded portions of 

 the wood, building where it is almost impenetrable. 

 When his family are able to fend for themselves he 

 grows bolder and his cry is the most familiar of the 

 forest. 



Another bird very much to the fore in September 

 groves is the little tit the ox's-eye, as country folk 

 indiscriminately call both the tiny blue and the cole 

 titmouse. One has no idea what numbers of these 

 active and pretty little birds are near at hand till ac- 

 cidentally, as it were, one of them is discovered. You 

 notice the great overgrown ferns by a thicket of haw- 

 thorn and wild rose swaying and moving in the wind- 

 less air, till you expect a hare or a rabbit to jump out, 

 but instead you catch sight of the white ear of a tit- 

 mouse as it is busy among the insects on the semi- 

 decayed frondage. It sees you too, and it and a little 

 wren hurry off simultaneously. The wren flits softly 

 away without a chirp or any audible rustle of its small 

 wings : not so the bold and ill-tempered titmouse ; it 

 swears vigorously at you while leaving, and it is 

 answered by a volley of oaths from the lichencd 

 branches of the crab, from the rotting leaves of the 

 lm, and from oak and ash, till the grove seems alive 

 and the sober foliage tinted with the plumage of tit- 

 mice. 



Startled by the clamour a stoat crosses the wood- 



