ROUND A LONDON COPSE 137 



That was the cuckoos' season; next spring, they re- 

 turned again, but much later than usual, and did not 

 call so much, nor were they seen so often while they 

 were there. One was calling in the copse on the evening 

 of the 6th of May as late as half-past eight, while the 

 moon was shining. But they were not so prominent; 

 and as for the missel- thrushes, I did not hear them at 

 all in the copse. It was the wood-pigeons' year. Thus 

 the birds come in succession and reign by turns. 



Even the starlings vary, regular as they are by habit. 

 This season (1881) none have whistled on the house-top. 

 In previous years they have always come, and only the 

 preceding spring a pair filled the gutter with the materials 

 of their nest. Long after they had finished a storm 

 descended, and the rain, thus dammed up and unable 

 to escape, flooded the corner. It cost half a sovereign 

 to repair the damage, but it did not matter ; the starlings 

 had been happy. It has been a disappointment this 

 year not to listen to their eager whistling and the flutter 

 of their wings as they vibrate them rapidly while hover- 

 ing a moment before entering their cavern. A pair of 

 house-martins, too, built under the eaves close to the 

 starlings' nest, and they also disappointed me by not 

 returning this season, though the nest was not touched. 

 Some fate, I fear, overtook both starlings and house- 

 martins. 



Another time it was the season of the lapwings. 

 Towards the end of November (1881), there appeared 

 a large flock of peewits, or green plovers, which flock 

 passed most of the day in a broad, level ploughed field 

 of great extent. At this time I estimated their number 

 as about four hundred ; far exceeding any flock I had 

 previously seen in the neighbourhood. Fresh parties 

 joined the main body continually, until by December 



