198 Wild Life in a Southern County 



by the scythe. And everywhere in their season, the beau- 

 tiful forget-me-nots nestle on the shores among the flags, 

 where the water, running slower at the edge, lingers to 

 kiss their feet. 



Once, some five-and-twenty years ago, a sportsman 

 startled a great bird out of the spot where the streams 

 join, and shot it, thinking it was a heron. But seeing 

 that it was no common heron, he had it examined, and it 

 was found to be a bittern, and as such was carefully pre- 

 served. It was the last visit of bitterns to the place ; 

 even then they were so rare as not to be recognised : now 

 the progress of agriculture has entirely banished them. 



