Haunts of Birds. 65 



deserted save by a solitary robin. This is speaking 

 of the smaller birds. The great missel-thrush espe- 

 cially delights in the open space of the park dotted 

 with groups of trees. The missel-thrush is a lonely 

 bird, and somehow seems like an outlaw — as if, 

 though not precisely dangerous, he was looked upon 

 with suspicion by the other birds, which will fre- 

 quently quit a bush or tree directly he alights upon 

 it. Yet he builds near houses, and year after year in 

 the same spot. I knew a large yew-tree which stood 

 almost in front and within a few yards of a sitting- 

 room window in which the missel-thrush had regu- 

 larly built its nest for twelve successive years. These 

 birds are singularly bold in defence of the nest, flying 

 round and chattering at those who would disturb it. 



In the ha-ha wall of the park, which is made of 

 loose stones or without mortar, the tomtit, or titmouse, 

 has his nest. He creeps in between the stones, follow- 

 ing the crannies for a surprising distance. Near here 

 the partridges roost on the ground ; they like an open 

 space far from hedges, afraid, perhaps, of weasels and 

 rats. On the other side, where the wood comes up, 

 if you watch quietly, the pheasants step in lordly 

 pride out into the grass ; so that there is no place 

 without its especial class of life. 



Perhaps with the exception of our parks and hills, 

 F 



