NATURE IN APRIL. I. 6 1 



cheep," of the Tree Creeper and his little song in spite of 

 what some Naturalists say to the contrary 1 He does sing, for I 

 have heard him. 



Walking along, we notice the blossoms of the Nut Hazel, 

 male and female ; our old friend who is with us pulls down a 

 few stems and tells us it will be a good Nut year. Swinging 

 to and fro on one of the stems, the Greenfinch may now be 

 seen preening his feathers and pouring out his not unpleasant 

 song ; indeed, I have heard him sing excellently at times. One 

 is struck at the abundance of Larks and Robins. I heard the 

 Skylark singing at midnight on the 3Oth March on three 

 separate occasions, and apparently soaring tool Did ever the 

 trilling lay sound so beautiful as on an April morn? Passing 

 across some pasture land, we notice two or three Mushroom 

 rings; note a small flock of Starlings not yet mated, and dis- 

 tinctly hear in yonder Firs, for the first time, the Chiff Chaff. 



We regret that Goldfinches are not met with so frequently 

 as we should like, although I know of a certain district where 

 they are increasing. On the stubbles we put up a few Linnets, 

 and a couple of old Carrion Crows fly past overhead. 



In the ditches the Frogs are about, and on warm evenings one 

 may hear their love song. In the pools the Toads are spawning, 

 and, as we stand watching them, a Swan gracefully glides 

 towards us the snow-white feathers and the exquisite attitudes 

 of the bird reminding us of one Dore's angels. The Bees 

 are busy now, and we note the first Humble Bee we have 

 seen out. 



How the Bees find the Sallow trees away in the woods ; they 

 have come miles to fetch the nectar. How sweet-smelling is 

 the male blossom, each little stem laden with gold. Notice the 

 female palm hard by. The uneducated person passes it and 

 remarks, "It isn't out" but it never will be any more 

 than it is. 



In the woods we pick up the wing of a Jay ; the keeper has 

 been blowing about for the want of something better to do, 

 but there is no doubt these birds do interfere with the Game. 



We may perchance pick up a dead bird or two by the 

 wayside, probably killed by the boy with the catapult. How 

 charming the golden of the Furze during April, on the top of 



