BIRDS OF PEASEMARSH 



the bank, and Redwing in the overhanging 

 bushes. The new owner would cut away those 

 bushes, alter the bank completely, and make 

 the place a harbour for motor launches. 



"And then," he added, with a triumphant 

 wave of his hand, "we will have it made a Bird 

 Sanctuary." 



It would indeed require a printed notice to 

 show for what the place was intended. The 

 birds would not weave their nests in those poor 

 trees trimmed to spindling proportions. The 

 shy Blue Heron would not come to live where 

 pleasure launches had taken the place of reeds 

 and bushes. The world of arrogant humans 

 might say he had improved the place, but the 

 wild things would go. As a bird sanctuary it 

 would be as desolate as the house when the 

 wedding guests were gone. 



Very different is a real bird sanctuary, with 

 its cool, shady retreats, its sheltering bushes 

 and its profusion of dogwood and sumacs. It 

 needs no printed notice to make known its pur- 

 pose, hundreds of feathered songsters will pro- 

 claim its name. A visit there is an inspiration. 

 Birds have nesting places, they have learned 

 they are safe and that the food supply will not 

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