36 ON SURREY HILLS. 



duck, and then examine the contents of the bird's 

 stomach. 



The sun is up now, and the light mist floats over 

 the tops of the firs. Our path runs through them for 

 a couple of miles or more. The trunks shine like 

 copper bronze in spots where the light breaks 

 through, and the fresh green tips of new foliage stand 

 out like emerald tassels against the old, which will 

 gradually drop off in small dead needles, making a 

 carpet beneath, soft to walk on ; or a couch whereon 

 to lie for a time, to rest and inhale their health- 

 giving fragrance. 



With a clap-clap-clap of his strong wings, the 

 wood-pigeon shoots up over the tree-tops, and floats, 

 with outspread tail and wings, for his mate to look up 

 at and admire, as she sits on her slight platform of 

 twigs not ten feet overhead. This action of his is 

 peculiar, and only to be seen when the birds are 

 nesting. On a branch, full in the morning light, sits 

 another fine fellow. What a picture he makes! 

 The purple tint of his breast, the patch of white on 

 his neck and warm grey of his back, touched here 

 and there with black on the wings, make a study to 

 be noted. With a rush and scolding chatter the 



