BIRDS, THAT COME IN MY GARDEN. ^39 



he gets over the ground. A " whacking" noise tells me that 

 he has outvied the Blackbird and actually found a Snail snugly 

 hiding under the brick wall. See how he smashes it by the 

 side of my rockery; if that sharp flint stone had been placed 

 there intentionally, it could not surely have served the purpose 

 better. 



The always welcome Jenny Wren is more like a mouse than 

 a bird as she dodges in and out of my Wallflowers and Pinks. 

 How quick her actions, how nimble and how agile is she 

 altogether. In among the foliage at one moment, the next 

 running almost along the edge of the fence, then on the rails; 

 now flitting like a lightning-flash amongst the Sparrow crowd, 

 who are still chirruping and quarrelling as to which of them 

 shall carry off the big hunch of bread. As a matter of fact, 

 not one of them has the power to do it, but the Sparrow is 

 never outdone and does not stop at trifles. Then suddenly 

 bursts upon the ear from that delicate little male Wren, which 

 has now made its appearance, a song truly captivating in its 

 richness and mellowness. He seems to be cheered by the 

 transient gleam, and sings with increased vivacity and power. 



From that bubbling little throat proceeds a regular peal of 

 bells, sweet, delicious and well sustained. Who can say that 

 birds are not always interesting, Winter as well as Summer? 

 They invariably possess a charm which he who has the Nature 

 soul appreciates to the full. 



Although the snow was falling, a courageous Lark was suspended 

 in mid-heaven, pouring out its joyous, thrilling lay. What a 

 lesson those of a morbid temperament may learn when, in the 

 midst of gloomy surroundings and with food scarce, all these 

 feathered creatures seem happy and contented. A near relation 

 of the last mentioned bird takes up its station at the far end 

 of my little plot the Meadow Pipit to wit. There is a Sheep- 

 fold not a great distance away; here one may always look for 

 these birds during the Winter, but I must also add it to the list 

 of varieties which visited me. Several chattering Starlings threw 

 off their timidity, and in their excitement and hunger came 

 almost near enough for me to put the proverbial piece of salt 

 on the tail. They fought like tigers for possession of the 

 morsels thrown out for them, and woe betide the Sparrows if 



