THE PAGEANT OF SUMMER 



another is a redstart. They are flyfishing 

 all of them, seizing insects from the sorrel 

 tips and grass, as the kingfisher takes a 

 roach from the water. A blackbird slips 

 up into the oak and a dove descends in 

 the corner by the chestnut tree. But these 

 are not visible together, only one at a time 

 and with intervals. The larger part of the 

 life of the hedge is out of sight. All the 

 thrush-fledglings, the young blackbirds, 

 and finches are hidden, most of them on 

 the mound among the ivy, and parsley, and 

 rough grasses, protected too by a roof of 

 brambles. The nests that still have eggs 

 are not, like the nests of the early days of 

 April, easily found; they are deep down 

 in the tangled herbage by the shore of 

 the ditch, or far inside the thorny thickets 

 which then looked mere bushes, and are 

 now so broad. Landrails are running in 

 the grass concealed as a man would be 

 in a wood ; they have nests and eggs on 

 the ground for which you may search in 

 vain till the mowers come. 



