NUTTY AUTUMN JEEZ 



are not taught to recognise it, and grown-up per- 

 sons are often quite unaware of it. I never once 

 heard a countryman, a labourer, a farmer, or any 

 one who was always out-of-doors, so much as 

 allude to it. They never noticed it, so much is 

 every one the product of habit. 



The first swallow they looked for, and never 

 missed ; but they neither heard nor saw the chiff- 

 chaff. To those who make any study at all of 

 birds it is, of course, perfectly familiar; but to the 

 bulk of people it is unknown. Yet it is one of the 

 commonest of migratory birds, and sings in every 

 copse and hedgerow, using loud, unmistakable notes. 

 At last, in the middle of September, the chiff-chaff, 

 too, is silent. The swallow remains; but for the 

 rest, the birds have flocked together, finches, star- 

 lings, sparrows, and gone forth into the midst of 

 the stubble far from the place where their nests 

 were built, and where they sang, and chirped, and 

 whistled so long. 



The swallows, too, are not without thought of 

 going. They may be seen twenty in a row, one 

 above the other, or on the slanting ropes or guys 

 which hold up the masts of the rickcloths over the 

 still unfinished cornricks. They gather in rows on 

 the ridges of the tiles, and wisely take counsel of 

 each other. Rooks are up at the acorns; they 

 take them from the bough, while the pheasants 

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