30 IN A CHESHIRE GARDEN 



he would fly up to the food-stand and secure 

 a morsel which, with a tender grace, he 

 presented to her. The gallant devotion so 

 plainly expressed by the one and the cares- 

 sing, coquetting airs of the other were most 

 amusing. I have seen, too, about the same 

 time of the year, one robin feeding another 

 with flies picked from the grass and the lower 

 boughs of a deadara tree. The robin that 

 was being fed did not attempt to pick up 

 anything for itself, but sat there on the grass 

 quivering its wings and opening its mouth 

 like a nestling. 



Robins often catch flies in the air, flying up 

 from the ground after them, and I have seen 

 one dart off from the branch of a tree, cap- 

 ture a passing fly and return again to the 

 same perch, for all the world like a flycatcher. 



One showery day in spring I saw a robin 

 on the food-stand washing itself in the rain, 

 spreading out its wings, shaking its feathers, 

 bobbing and ducking about as though it had 

 been in a bath, and I have noticed one wash- 

 ing in wet leaves and drinking from the tips 

 of leaves. 



Greater whitethroats are as common in this 

 garden and neighbourhood as in most places. 

 One that had its nest by the old river bank 

 used to come and scold whenever I went 

 near, and never ceased until I left. Such a 

 proceeding looks like a case of instinct play- 



