48 COUNTRY RAMBLES. 



A friend tells me that when fishing in the Ver last year a Bat 

 seized his bait as it was dropping into the water. It was just getting 

 dusk, and he pulled his line in to find, to his surprise, one of these 

 extraordinary creatures firmly hooked. He was baiting with dough. 

 I have known Swallows and Martins do this, but it is the first occasion 

 that I have heard of the Bat. 



17th. The House Sparrows are very busy with household duties 

 now. They have to-day been tugging away at the dead and withered 

 stalks and grasses in the garden, and they have a special liking for 

 the withered fronds of the Ferns. 



Ground covered with snow again during last night, accompanied 

 by a very sharp frost. These frosts had better come now than later on. 



The sun is very powerful, and it had not been out long before 

 ploughing was taking place near to my house, reminding us once 

 again of the coming of Spring. 



Travelling in the train to-day, I noticed some Lambs frolicking 

 on a green hillside. How strong they are getting, and how peaceful 

 the scene. 



The leaves are heaped up in the parks, and what tales they could 

 tell if only they could speak! Perchance of the picnic parties held 

 underneath the pliant branches on which the leaves once hung in such 

 exquisite festoons; of the attentive lovers who strolled along the 

 grove at an hour when Titania and her graceful attendants might have 

 been looked for sporting on the green ; of the old Naturalist who stood 

 and admired that grand old Oak, that tall Poplar, that well-developed 

 Beech and Elm; of the gambols of the school children, their merry 

 peals of laughter, joy, and mirth, in the enjoyment of such delightful 

 freedom; and many, many more pleasant memories do these fallen 

 tresses of past Summers bring to mind. 



18th. A white frost was presented to view when I turned out this 

 morning. The trees and hedgerows were a picture in their crystal 

 covering, but the sun soon put an end to the icy Winter look, and by 

 10 a.m. it was again more like Springtime. 



I put up a pair of Yellow Buntings on some grass land. The 

 alarm note is something like that of the Pied Wagtail, and sounds, 

 when uttered on the wing and otherwise, like ' Tisit, tisit, tisit." 



Chaffinch in beautiful song now, and the Hedge Sparrow, Robin, 

 and Skylark singing almost without cessation. 



