NIGHTINGALE ROAD 



In one of these fields, just opposite the copse, a 

 covey of partridges had their rendezvous, and I 

 watched them from the road, evening after even- 

 ing, issue one by one, calling as they appeared 

 from a breadth of mangolds. Their sleeping-place 

 seemed to be about a hundred yards from the 

 wayside. Another arable field just opposite is 

 bounded by the road with iron wire or railing, 

 instead of a hedge, and the low mound in which 

 the stakes are fixed swarmed one summer with 

 ant-hills full of eggs, and a slight rustle in the corn 

 as I approached told where the parent bird had 

 just led her chicks from the feast to shelter. 



Passing into the copse by the road, which is 

 metalled but weed-grown from lack of use, the 

 grasshoppers sing from the sward at the sides, but 

 the birds are silent as the summer ends. Pink 

 striped bells of convolvulus flower' over the flints 

 and gravel, the stones nearly hidden by their run- 

 ners and leaves ; yellow toadflax or eggs and 

 bacon grew here till a weeding took place, since 

 which it has not reappeared, but in its place viper's 

 bugloss sprang up, a plant which was not previously 

 to be found there. Hawkweeds, some wild vetches, 

 white yarrow, thistles, and burdocks conceal the 

 flints yet further, so that the track has the appear- 

 ance of a green drive. 



The slender birch and ash poles are hung with 



