THE SINGERS 55 



bit of life he is! It is hardly possible to give his 

 colours; they are not contrasted or sharply defined, 

 as those of bullfinch or goldfinch, they blend into 

 each other; but I know that the polished blue and 

 grey about the crown and the back of the neck, 

 and the darker blue of the bill, and the chestnut 

 brown of the under parts, are lovely. 



As he drops, perhaps with a careless " pink, pink," 

 from the beech branch, whose fattened buds of old- 

 gold and flesh tints are beginning to unroll their 

 green, into the grass at the roadside, we are sur- 

 prised by a beauty that surprised us last spring 

 and a dozen springs before. 



The chaffinch is as polished and smooth as a diving 

 duck floating at the harbour bar. I know of nothing 

 that is turned out by Nature more spick and span 

 than the cock chaffinch of May. The birth of a 

 new feather in spring may somewhat remind one 

 of the birth of a new leaf. Both have long been 

 in the bud, though the begetting and growth of 

 the bird dress are more cryptic than those of the 

 tree dress. But this glow and colour on the chaffinch 

 is not all born at the birth of the new feather. The 

 fire is gradually laid, then finally kindled in the 

 month of May. Fire is no violent image to use 

 of the lustre of some birds in spring. The sheen 

 on the breast and flanks of the pheasant, seen in the 

 sun at this season, might be likened to a little flame 

 such as we get by setting light to some volatile spirit. 



