XX 



THE RAILWAY EMBANKMENT 



"With her a sweet companion came, 

 One alway smiling 'Peace!' she said." 



WILLIAM DAVIES. 



T ANDSCAPES and gardens we do paths close to, perhaps alongside, 



not want to have all to our- these hedges, but the railway ground 



selves ; companions may often help us remains absolutely private. The trains 



to their full enjoyment. But to watch above take nothing from the privacy 



wild life in the finer line and shade, of the place : lying on the slope or 



freedom from intrusion is a great thing, walking among the June grass and 



The unsympathetic stranger is embar- ox-eye daisies by the hedgeside, one 



rassing. Figures and voices of way- sees hardly anything of them. Their 



farers, even of toilers in the field or noise does not distress us ; the grand 



wood much more of holiday-makers thunder and the shake of trains at 



should belong to the distance, be these close quarters is good rather 



embraced in a kind of bird's eye view, than otherwise. I doubt whether 



If, however, the occasional passer- it jars even on sensitive nerves, 



by does not actually encroach on our Besides, we can grow accustomed to 



preserve, is unconscious even of our this sound so soon that, after a short 



existence, he may be almost welcome, experience, train after train may roar 



To a hermit behind a hedge, the foot- by without our noticing them. It may 



fall of a passer-by can be quite agree- be the same with wild animals. The 



able : it may add something to the pipit or yellow-hammer perched on 



triumph of solitude to feel that we the telegraph wire does not stir for the 



are in such complete seclusion that fastest, loudest express. I have seen 



even a wayfarer a few yards off the beautiful little merlin equally 



goes by without suspecting our pres- unconcerned. Is he conscious, indeed, 



ence. of its passing ? 



It is this seclusion that often makes I have heard that nightingales haunt- 



the lower part of the railway embank- ing wooded places by railway lines will 



ment, screened by a splendid haw- sing persistently all night, and I seem to 



thorn hedge, such an excellent spot have noticed how long and choicely the 



in summer. There are stiles and foot- railway nightingales sing in Kent. A 



96 



