PREFACE 



IT is usually supposed to be necessary to go far into 

 the country to find wild birds and animals in sufficient 

 numbers to be pleasantly studied. Such was certainly 

 my own impression till circumstances led me, for the 

 convenience of access to London, to reside for awhile 

 about twelve miles from town. There my preconceived 

 views on the subject were quite overthrown by the pre- 

 sence of as much bird-life as I had been accustomed to 

 in distant fields and woods. 



First, as the spring began, came crowds of chiffchaffs 

 and willow-wrens, filling the furze with ceaseless flutter- 

 ings. Presently a nightingale sang in a hawthorn bush 

 only just on the other side of the road. One morning, 

 on looking out of window, there was a hen pheasant in 

 the furze almost underneath. Rabbits often came out 

 into the spaces of sward between the bushes. 



The furze itself became a broad surface of gold, 

 beautiful to look down upon, with islands of tenderest 

 birch green interspersed, and willows in which the sedge- 

 reedling chattered. They used to say in the country 

 that cuckoos were getting scarce, but here the notes of 

 the cuckoo echoed all day long, and the birds often flew 

 over the house. Doves cooed, blackbirds whistled, 

 thrushes sang, jays called, wood-pigeons uttered the old 



