170 WILD LIFE IN A SOUTHERN COUNTY. 



which seems now to mean, " Come and see Me ; am I 

 not handsome ? " 



On a warm June day, when the hedges are covered 

 with roses and the air is sweet with the odour of 

 mown grass, it is pleasant to listen to the blackbirds 

 in the oaks pouring forth their rich liquid notes. 

 There is no note so sweet and deep and melodious as 

 that of the blackbird to be heard in our fields ; it is 

 even richer than the nightingale's, though not so 

 varied. Just before noonday between eleven and 

 twelve when the heat increases, he leaves the low 

 thick bushes and moist ditches and mounts up into 

 an oak tree, where on a branch he sits and sings. Then 

 another at a distance takes up the burden, till by- 

 and-by, as you listen, partly hidden in a gateway, 

 four or five are thus engaged in the trees of a single 

 meadow. 



He sings in a quiet, leisurely way, as a great artist 

 should : there is no haste, no notes thickening on 

 notes in swift crescendo. His voice (so to speak) drops 

 from him without an effort, and is so clear that it may 

 be heard at a long distance. It is not a set song ; 

 perhaps, in strict language, it is hardly a song at all, 

 but rather a succession of detached notes with inter- 

 vals between. Except when singing, the blackbird does 

 not often frequent trees ; lie is a hedge-bird, though 

 sometimes when you are looking at a field of green 

 corn or beans one will rise out of it and fly to a tree 

 a solitary tree such as is sometimes seen in the 

 midst of an arable field. At Wick Farm, sitting in 



