28 MARCH IN BROADLAND. 



tion of theirs. Heigho ! here's a little violet peeping out from the bank-side, and 

 another. How beautiful they smell: it was the scent and bright blue that betrayed 

 them. Daisies dot the sward with their pearly faces, and in the holl (ditch), be- 

 neath the blackthorn, are some pale yellow primroses, which contrast strongly 

 against the dark green leaves that sheltered them while they were yet unfolded. 

 Those golden flowers nearer the water are the starry petals of the pilewort. The 

 humble-bee has ventured out; the catkins on the sallow upon our right have 

 attracted several of these droning insects. The leaves of the honeysuckle in the 

 hedge appear ready to unfold. In the field beyond, the young grass has carpeted 

 the soil with brightness. There goes a rabbit, and another. How the merry 

 things frisk and gambol! A small flock of wood-pigeons, loudly smiting their 

 pinions, pass overhead in hurrying flight. But for our presence, which they 

 observe not until close upon us, they would most likely have dropped down in the 

 wheat-field behind us for a dinner of the young sweet blades. What wild shy 

 birds they are ! And notwithstanding the constant persecution to which they are 

 subject, they seem yearly on the increase here. 



Quietude and motionlessness are two great essentials to observation ; and if the 

 naturalist would insinuate himself into the good graces of Nature he must bring 

 both qualifications into exercise. Note that hare! hither it comes limping along 

 the road. Ah! your movement caught his quick eye, and with a hasty bound he 

 has darted through the hedge. How strange it is, that when unsuspicious of 

 danger, the hare sometimes keeps straight on, and almost runs himself into it ! 

 The position of his eyes may account for his not seeing so well ahead as on either 

 side of him. Did you observe that small brown head peering above the bank? 

 There it is again. It is a stoat. He has scented the unlucky rodent, and has 

 already got upon his track. So pertinaciously does the stoat keep upon the trail 

 of an intended victim that we may be almost certain poor puss will fall an easy 

 prey to him. A frog just now ' plumped' into the ditch: this must surely be 

 his first day's outing ; all winter through he lay snugly asleep in the mud below. 

 The little birds grow bolder; and so long as we remain quiet, they pop in and 

 out among the thorny twigs and budding tree-sprays. 



But, friend Piscator, it is time we were moving. It's getting well towards 

 the noon-hour. The waters of the Broad will lie before us when we get beyond 

 the village ' pub.' Going inside? Well, we might do worse, if we might do 

 better. But a jug of hot steaming coffee, and some sweet white bread and a bit 

 of cheese will the better befit us for a foray amongst the perch. The genial host 

 is profuse in information, and obliging, as is the wont of his fraternity, to the 



