Adapted Plumage. 155 



deep in the heart of a tree, are safe from the keen eye 

 of prowling weasel or marauding hawk, and need no 

 protection from subdued colouring. 



The kingfisher, another hole-breeder, is more bril- 

 liant still ; and here again the hen bird vies with her 

 mate in the brightness of her colours. Under a glass 

 case, perched stiffly on a twig in what the bird-stuffer 

 regards as a natural attitude, he is rather an ungainly 

 object. 



But in his haunt by the sylvan stream he is the eye 

 of the picture the finishing touch to the landscape. 



The little river wanders through rich meadows .that 

 in summer are bright with purple spikes of loose-strife, 

 and the golden wings of the flower de luce. There is 

 a devious footpath over rustic bridges, but wayfarers 

 are few and far between. Dark alders lean over the 

 banks ; forests of tall sedges cluster lovingly round 

 the roots of the grey willow trees. There is no sound 

 but the drone of the old Norman mill and the plash 

 of water over the ancient wheel ; or now and then the 

 cry of a creeper in the great sycamore, or the leap of 

 a trout, or the plunge of a water-rat. It is a place 



Where timid rail and moorhen hide 



In the tufted sedge by the riverside ; 



Where dusky coots, with careless oar, 



The silver pools drift idly o'er ; 



Where the grey heron looks silent down 



On the trout that flash through the shadows brown ; 



Where fiery marsh-flowers stoop to lave 



Their golden bells in the whirling wave. 



