14 The Confessions of a 'Poacher. 



bark ; midway it enters a hole in which is its 

 nest. A garrulous blue-winged jay chatters 

 from the tall oak, and purple rooks are picking 

 among the corn. Butterflies dally through the 

 warm air, and insects swarm among the leaves 

 and flowers of the hedge bottoms. A crake 

 calls, now here, now far out yonder. Blue- 

 bells carpet the wood-margin, and the bog is 

 bright with marsh plants. 



This, then, is the workshop of the young 

 poacher, and here he receives his first im- 

 pressions. Is it strange that a mighty yearning 

 springs up within him to know more of nature's 

 secrets ? He finds himself in a fairy place, 

 and all unconsciously drinks in its sweets. See 

 him now deeply buried in a golden flood of 

 marsh marigolds ! See how he stands spell- 

 bound before saxifrages which cling to a 

 dripping rock. Water avens, wild parsley, 

 and campions crowd around him, and flags 

 of the yellow and purple iris tower over all. 

 He watches the doings of the reed-sparrows 

 deep down in the flags, and sees a water-ouzel 

 as it rummages among the pebbles at the 



