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HAMPSHIRE DAYS 



droning through it, is peopled with subtle intelligences, 

 which elude and mock and fly from him, and which 

 he pursues until he finds out their secret. They mock 

 him most, or, to drop the metaphor, he is most at fault, 

 on a still sultry day when not a breath of air is stirring. 

 At times he catches what, for want of better knowledge, 



we must call a scent, and in order to fix the direction 

 it comes from he goes through a series of curious 

 movements. You will see him rise above a thorny 

 thicket, or a point where two hedges intersect at right 

 angles, and remain suspended on his wings a few inches 

 above the hedge-top for one or two minutes, loudly 



