THROUGH THE YEAR 165 



come still nearer the shore : I have seen one within 

 a stone's throw, which saw me and yet showed no 

 fear, diving and swimming about at its ease. 



One brilliant morning, perhaps as late as the mid- 

 dle of November, long after we think we have seen 

 the last of the swallows, a pair of swallows appear 

 overhead. They are flying not seaward, but straight 

 in from the sea, like the Vanessa butterfly, as if 

 they had been drawn back from the south by the 

 balm and beauty of the weather. 



When ill, I lay morning after morning at a point 

 where a thread of water from a chine or bunny 

 trickles through the clay and sand cliffs to the sea ; 

 and here in a November or December day there would 

 be two or three pied wagtails. They came bounding 

 down from the sides of the cliff with their cheery 

 call, and settling with the exquisite grace and style 

 of their kind, ran and tripped at the edge of the 

 sea, feeding daintily in its foam and flashing 

 bubbles. 



Rock pipits came in pairs they mate, perhaps, 

 for life and if the stonechats did not come actually 

 on the sand, at least they flitted about the rough 

 grass a few yards off, taking up their stations very 

 often on the dead stem of some sea-loving plant. 

 Day after day the kestrel, which, if it is a typical 

 inland bird or bird of woods and fields and downs, 

 is a typical seashore bird too, will appear at the 

 same hour at the same spot ; the kestrel seems to be 

 one of Nature's most accurate time-keepers, like 

 the night j ar and the convolvulus hawk moth. There 



