ON THE OLD DROVE ROAD. . 19 



This hot sun would have brought out the 

 Swallows had they been hibernating, as Gilbert 

 White thought some of them did, but not a 

 feather of the family has arrived yet (3Oth 

 April). The Primroses are now in full bloom, 

 warming the banks and braes with their lovely 

 colour, and pleasing the sense with their deli- 

 cate perfume. A sharp sting announces the 

 arrival of the Midge. Few but those who have 

 experienced it can imagine what torture this 

 wee demon can inflict. An Admiral Butterfly 

 alights on the walk, but soon flies away and 

 is lost to sight. 



The Rooks are busy in the fields; the Black- 

 birds and Mavis tune their voices, and now 

 that the wind has fallen, in the quiet of the 

 evening we can sit on the grassy bank by the 

 road-side and listen to the bird concert. The 

 Robin sings low and sweet ; two Shilfas are 

 fighting in mid-air, while another utters his well- 

 known cry of " Fink, fink," from a tree close 

 by. The Linnets are playing amongst the 



