2 3 o IN THE GREEN LEAF 



been noticed. The heave-jars have been silent 

 for the last two hours, and the owls have left 

 off their cat-like mewings ; a couple are pass- 

 ing to and fro from glade to glade, for it is 

 the hush of Nature keeps them silent. Surely 

 a fairer sight was never to be seen in any 

 woodland district, in or out of England, than 

 the small hamlet at the foot of a bright green 

 valley, with balsamic fir woods on either side 

 of it. A lark rises from one ol the fields near 

 the hamlet, singing his morning song ; clear 

 and distinct as a silver bell, each note rings 

 through the air. Sometimes this hailer of the 

 dawn will not even wait for the night clouds 

 to roll away. I have heard the skylark, not 

 the woodlark, singing high up in the dark- 

 ness at daybreak ; from his altitude getting the 

 first streaks of light in advance. 



Quite recently, when out on the watch well 

 concealed, I was amused to hear myself dis- 

 cussed as follows : 



" What's the meanin' on it ? What do he 

 stan' an' look at nothin' with that 'ere machine 

 up on his nose ? What do he be after ? " 



." He's a picter-maker. I've sin him afore ; 

 he's arter birds, an' talks to sum on 'em." 



" Damned if I believe that." 



