SIGNS OF AUTUMN . 237 



crests erected, and the white marks on their wings 

 showing like flecks of snow on the dusky branches. 

 Alighting high on the trees, they utter their sharp 

 cry, " fink," which has in many places given them 

 a name. But on discovering a human intruder 

 they adopt a different manner ; they are uneasy, 

 flit nearer to him, and turning from side to side, 

 view him with each eye alternately, and, satisfied 

 as to what he is and what his presence means, they 

 fly quietly off to a safer retreat. Often quite a 

 little company of them are in the same tree. It 

 is alleged that the sexes separate during winter ; 

 and this is partially true. I have never seen large 

 flocks of one sex ; but I have often seen groups of 

 from six to twelve of one sex, save, perhaps, one 

 or two individuals of the opposite gender. On the 

 Cotteswolds it seemed to me that the males fre- 

 quented preferably the litter under beech trees, 

 where they are not conspicuous, and that the 

 females were more often seen about hedges and 

 larch plantations. 



The great sign of autumn, however, is the change 

 in the colouring of the trees ; this is the daily 

 record, telling its own tale, and preaching its own 



