156 IN THE GREEN LEAF 



away, leave the air as hot and quiet as it was 

 before. 



The whitethroats have left off their hurried 

 chidings and scolding chatter ; their broods are 

 strong on the wing, ready for departure. In 

 fact, the insect-feeders are getting very rest- 

 less. The willow wrens and the delicate tree- 

 warblers no longer flit from bough to bough, 

 or hover over the topmost twigs ; they have 

 their young to care for a great charge now 

 also the prospect before them of a long journey 

 to their winter home. Delicately formed crea- 

 tures, they come and go, ruled by those won- 

 derful laws of bird life that are only fully known 

 to the birds that obey them. We who study 

 them closely must, I am sure, honestly confess 

 that a great deal has yet to be learnt about 

 our small birds. For those puffs of cool air, 

 which come and go so mysteriously, are to 

 those fragile emigrants the first warning that 

 they have not long to stay. 



Very pleasant it is to roam by quiet hedge- 

 rows, and through cool, green meadows, just 

 before the sun sinks down ; and some very 

 pretty bits of natural life can be seen by 

 those who are contented with small pictures. 

 Something stirs the hazel twigs. It is a 



