THROUGH THE YEAR 179 



the beginning of the avenue part of the lane, that 

 I found the dormouse's little ball of a nest one day 

 in summer, and saw her busy at work. I remember 

 her bright eyes ! Above this, in the brambles and 

 coarse wood grasses, was the garden warbler's nest, 

 with one dead chick hanging across the edge, and 

 the parent birds, quite unconcerned, brooding the 

 while over their live young and feeding them.* A 

 few yards away was the chiff-chaff's nest lower down 

 in brambles, the secret of its site being given away 

 by some long straws which the builder had found on 

 the road a yard or two away and carelessly woven 

 into her lovely fabric. 



Where the avenue ends, the lane is almost in the 

 open fields for a very short way, being only divided 

 from them by some posts and rails covered densely 

 with ivy. Then comes the railway bridge, and 

 when this is passed one is in the real wild, disordered 

 part of the lane. Here is the Birket Foster end of 

 the lane : I think that any one who prizes the work 

 of Birket Foster will understand what this means. 

 There have been in the last half-century two artists, 

 perfect drawers and painters of the South-country 

 lane and hamlet. The first was Birket Foster, the 

 second is Mrs. Allingham. As a rule I do not care 

 much for the precisian in art, or for photographic 

 fidelity. I prefer the impressionist. But when it 

 comes to one of these English lanes, give me the exact 

 detail of Birket Foster. He was the portrait painter 

 of the hedgerow elms. He drew the hedgebanks, 

 * See " The Glamour of the Earth," pp. 179-180. 



