NATURE IN MAY. 87 



The Red Oak is well out now and harmonises nicely with 

 the Green variety. Just watch for a moment that Redstart in 

 the topmost branches, notice his flame-coloured tail feathers. 

 How they contrast with the more sombre colouring of his other 

 parts. In that old shed, the nest, with six little green eggs, is 

 probably secreted. We have not yet left the water, please 

 glance in by the side of this old woodwork and look at those 

 tiny habitations which the Caddis Worm has built. Some are 

 mere black bits of wood, others are encrusted with minute, 

 dazzling, oyster-coloured shells and other matter. How wonderful 

 these tiny mansions, and how extraordinary the all-wise hand 

 of Nature seems to be as we see the head and legs of the 

 Caddis protruding from one end and climbing along the bed of 

 the river, or up the water-worn posts 1 The angler knows the 

 "feel" of a Cad-shell when he puts his hand down the side of 

 the old bridge or post, and knows such a tempting bait will 

 bring him a nice basket of Roach or Dace. I have often felt 

 guilty when I have dislodged the owner and thrown carelessly 

 away the empty house. Pay particular attention to the Water 

 Plants for they are a veritable study in themselves. A picture 

 of a few of them is given on the previous page. 



Let us go through the Corn field now and watch the waving 

 blades and listen to the "crex, crex" of the ventriloquial 

 Landrail or Corncrake. Do you hear him now ? He is coming 

 towards us now away now near he runs as fast and as fleet 

 as a Deer, and his voice travels with him. How curious he 

 never takes to flight much, and yet a migratory bird 1 



Philomel starts up out of that thick thorn bush, and a fluty 

 Blackbird duly follows suit. Right over the bush a Lapwing 

 wheels, uttering his love song -call it not a wild cry and the 

 Willow Wren pours out a delicate little warble. See those 

 cattle grazing yonder, and that old wooden fence? Let us go 

 there, we may perchance see something. Luck is with us, for 

 true enough a Spotted Flycatcher darts off from his accustomed 

 watch-post after the luscious insect, then back again. He has 

 his nest in the grape vine at the miller's, or in some wall, 

 or outhouse not far away. We are close to him now; notice 

 his speckled breast. 



In the gardens, the vegetable and flower seeds are nicely 



