AUGUST. 221 



this beautiful flower holding up its bird's eye of flowers in defiance of 

 the sun's scorching rays?), Cow Parsnip, Field Scorpion Grass, Upright 

 Meadow Crowfoot, Thyme-leaved Veronica (it is some weeks since 

 this flower was included in our lists, I think), Fumitory, Blue Sherardia 

 (a similar remark applies to this as to the Thyme-leaved Veronica), 

 Traveller's Joy (will soon be out in all its fulness), Herb Robert (this 

 attractive little flower still blooms on), Avens, Betony, Honeysuckle, 

 Corn Mint, Perforated St. John's Wort (passing hence). Hedge 

 Calamint (nearly finished), Lamb's Tongue, Agrimony, Hemp Nettle, 

 Self Heal (nearly all seeded), Hedge Bedstraw (the same remark), 

 Enchanter's Nightshade, Water Figwort (the last time probably of 

 inclusion; I hope this time not to be caught napping! Shaking one 

 of the seed heads, what a curious tinkling sound the small seeds make 

 as they are shaken against the dry vessels 1), Hedge Mustard (seems 

 to be coming on again, and it was only recently that we noted its 

 apparent flowering decease), Foxglove (surely the last time of inclusion), 

 Marsh Thistle, Hedge Stachys (in spite of former notes, a few speci- 

 mens found to-day still in flower, mostly at the top of the plant). It 

 will be noticed our list still exceeds seventy species in bloom. 



Birds singing: Robin (dear little fellow, he is now singing daily 

 his early Autumn song. How glad I am he has returned to my gar- 

 den; there, when I am digging the "Sensation" Potatoes, picking 

 the White Runner Beans or a button-hole for, be it said, almost 

 every day of my life I have my flower is the dapper little chap 

 perched on the fence singing that captivating song. It is the more 

 beautiful and noticeable because nearly every song bird is now silent, 

 and it attracts one more because of the hasty approach of the termin- 

 ation of another season of Nature's handiwork, when one's thoughts 

 turn to the various vicissitudes through which we have passed since 

 last January. I think the Redbreast's song is sweet and mellow, but 

 somewhat melancholy and little varied. Yet to me it is always wel- 

 come, but more especially so in early Autumn, and the number of 

 Robins about is very marked. I heard four singing simultaneously 

 to-day within a dozen yards of one another, besides many others, and 

 saw a great number, too, one having the speckled plumage, the red 

 breast being just discernible), Willow Warbler (singing very slightly, 

 and probably the last time of inclusion). The Robin is, therefore, 

 practically the only bird singing now. 



Birds heard or seen: House Sparrow (a good many in the gar- 

 den after the scraps, in spite of the fact that there is a cornfield in 

 front of my house), Swift (not nearly so many seen; most of them have 



