LADY DAY IN DEVON 9 



enthusiastic sister brought with difficulty 

 every five minutes or so from the distant 

 beech clump. The thief was an artist, she 

 was subtle, and cunning. A quick hop took 

 her to the young bird's pile, she seized a 

 stick, and drifted upwards into the wind, 

 swung round in a half circle and brought it 

 to her own nest in the same tree with a soft 

 caa-caa, as though implying relief at reaching 

 home again. Her mate, judging by his 

 white face, is an ancient bird; he is wise; 

 he does no work; he fetches no food for his 

 toiling wife; but perches near the nest, 

 approving her method of labour, and guard- 

 ing its results. He is the nearest approach 

 to a bird " fence " that it would be possible 

 to find. 



A lane of red mud leads through the 

 beech-clump. Life here is hard, but the 

 celandines show their spoke-rays to the 

 sun and wind-washed heaven, braving the 

 half-gales that come across the Atlantic 

 and twirl the fallen numbers of autumn's 



