84 



THE EARLY DAYS OF 



in very early days we only had the Kennet to disport in, and round 

 promontories were erected about a hundred yards above the mill, 

 from which headers could be taken. 



On the other side of the river was a 

 well-wooded swamp, where in the 

 Spring- the Black-headed Bunting 

 had its home, and the Reed-warbler 

 would build its lovely nest, supported 

 by slender columns and rocked to 

 and fro by every passing breeze ; 

 the Moorhen and the Dabchick were 

 always there, calling in the most 

 exasperating way, as though they felt 

 quite safe from school-boy depreda- 

 tions. I viewed the place with longing 

 eyes, and though I was an indifferent 

 hand at sums, would calculate how 

 much I would " put down upon the 

 nail " to spend half an hour there in 

 Spring, when the poor little birds 

 were busy with their nests. I can't 

 remember that I ever thought they 

 might object to my robbing them, 

 and even the bare idea of leaving a 

 single Q.gg, which ultimately might pro- 

 duce a father's hope or a mother's joy, was scouted in derision, and 

 in fact, to cut short what appears to be getting rather a prosy story, 

 I determined, come what might, to explore that El Dorado. 



The best way to get at the place was by going through the mill. 

 But the Miller was a dreadful ogre, and as he often said, he couldn't 

 abear them boys. Swear! Why, so far as I could discover, he 

 didn't know any other words than oaths and imprecations, which he 

 would shower on our heads, and eyes, and limbs. However, I was 

 determined to have some eggs; and so one market day I watched the 



BLACK-HEADED BUNTING. 



