^Z-S ROUND A LONDON C O P S E SEI 



tail, as it was spread open to assist the upward 

 flight to the branch, was visible. Outside the 

 garden gate, and not more than twenty yards 

 distant, there stood three young spruce firs, at the 

 edge of the copse, but without the boundary. To 

 the largest of these one of the pigeons came now 

 and then ; he was half inclined to choose it for his 

 nest. 



The noise of their wings as they rose and 

 threshed their strong feathers together over the 

 tops of the trees was often heard, and while in the 

 garden one might be watched approaching from a 

 distance, swift as the wind, then suddenly half- 

 closing his wings and shooting forwards, he alighted 

 among the boughs. Their coo is not in any sense 

 tuneful ; yet it has a pleasant association ; for the 

 ringdove is pre-eminently the bird of the woods 

 and forests, and rightly named the wood-pigeon. 

 Yet though so associated with the deepest and 

 most lonely woods, here they were close to the 

 house and garden, constantly heard, and almost 

 always visible ; and London, too, so near. They 

 seemed almost as familiar as the sparrows and 

 starlings. 



These pigeons were new inhabitants; but turtle- 



doves had built in the copse since I knew it. 



They were late coming the last spring I watched 



them ; but, when they did, chose a spot much 



179 



