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MARCH DAYS ON THE DOWNS 



GAME, and wild birds and beasts of all kinds show 

 themselves more on a warm March day than at any 

 other season. This is not because they are more 

 numerous, for after the hardships of winter, and 

 before the young are born, or the spring migrants 

 have arrived, their numbers are at the lowest point 

 in the year. Yet the bare fields and the edges of 

 the copses seem to tempt every hare, crow, magpie, 

 and hawk, to show themselves for a few days almost 

 without fear of man. Even the tame cats leave 

 the houses and gardens, and sit out in the meadows and 

 on the sunny banks, neither hunting nor sleeping, but 

 sitting up sedately enjoying the prospect, and licking 

 their fur into summer glossiness. The dog-foxes do 

 the same, though the vixens are already occupied in the 

 care of their litters. On a rough hillside forming the 

 outskirts of a park, dotted with patches of dried grass 

 and brambles, I have often watched them at this 

 time sitting up like a dog with ears erect and a 

 boldness of demeanour which must be born of some 

 vulpine recollection that the hunting-season comes to 



