NATURE IN SEPTEMBER. 21 5 



Has the reader ever noticed that very few birds now are 

 killed by coming in contact with telegraph wires compared 

 with the number which suffered death when these all important 

 poles and wires were first erected ? It is a fact worth noticing 

 because of the way in which the feathered creatures have 

 apparently educated themselves. On only one ramble of late 

 years have I been a witness of a catastrophe, and that happened 

 to a pair of Fieldfares some five years ago. 



The Yellow Bunting still sings ' A little bit of bread and no 

 cheese ' from out of the topmost branches of a fine Chestnut, 

 and in a garden we notice a pair of Marsh Tits, far away from 

 marshes and water of any kind. What a curious note they 

 have too. How it is brought home to us as we watch these 

 industrious little creatures that birds can very well live without 

 man but man cannot live without birds. 



Along a hedgerow bordering a fine field of turnips we turn 

 a nest full of young Whitethroats out, scampering into the 

 undergrowth for their very lives. Notice the parent birds in 

 the topmost branches watching our every movement, and then 

 when danger is passed joining their brood and sheltering them. 

 What an illustration of parental affection 1 



Passing by the river we stop for a few moments to watch a 

 pair of brightly plumed Kingfishers on their beat, and some 

 industrious working men catching Craw Fish, which, when boiled, 

 look and taste similar to Lobster, but are much smaller. 



The Swallows and Martins still warble sweet and low, the 

 Humble Bees and the Humming Bird Hawk Moths are studies 

 in themselves. The golden Eschscholtzia in the gardens with 

 the exquisite light green foliage still opens its beautiful petals 

 to the September sunshine, and the Dahlias are in their prime, 

 but how the nights lengthen ! The Bat prowls round rny house 

 now as early as 7 o'clock and at that hour it is with difficulty 

 that I can watch its quick and agile movements. What a 

 strange and weird creature this. 



The wind blows about the silken tassels of the Thistle and 

 propogates that obnoxious weed in all manner of situations, 

 but in the sunshine they look like frail silver butterflies toying 

 in the air. Nature is becoming more silent day by day all 

 the Warblers are preparing for their over-sea journeys, and it 



