THE SPINX 107 



delicate petals of peaches and nectarines in a south border, 

 when I meditated, " Of what use art thou, solemn birds, with 

 thy everlasting spinx, spinx?" And, truth to tell, 'tis a 

 characterless, disappointing bird, and never comes up to its 

 promise of spring. Though, in fairness, it must be said, I 

 have seen it gracefully hawking for flies from the ground like 

 a wagtail, whilst uttering little cries like a linnet. Only in 

 the glad May-time, when it is building its lovely little nest 

 in the whitethorn, now screened with new-born leaves, 

 and singing its short, sweet song, does it attract one; 

 for, after rearing the nestlings upon caterpillars green as 

 new-born leaves, seeds, maggots, midges, and moths often 

 gathered under the haymaker's eyes this bird seems to 

 settle down to a petty round of details flocking together 

 with bramblings and greenfinches to rob the fields of newly- 

 sown corn until the hard weather drives them up to the 

 farmer's corn-stacks, where they often fall victims to their 

 lusts. Even in death they are useless. And yet they are 

 the most eager of birds to leave the nest, starting abroad 

 when their backs are thinly shielded with a few feathers 

 long before they can fly. A restless, ever-attempting, never- 

 accomplishing bird is the spinx a bird full of resolve, yet 

 ever suddenly halting in the heights of his endeavours : he 

 interests me not. And still they can cross the seas, for 

 flocks of them come over the North Sea in autumn with the 

 larks and rooks " wheat-pickers," as the fenmen contemp- 

 tuously call these bands of roving thieves as if their two 

 children a year were not a sufficient supply of these dull 

 birds the friend of the sparrow and dirty greenfinch 

 the lover of the cage. For did not I once capture a 

 young chaffinch in my tool-house and imprison him, and, 

 finding his worthlessness, free him. But lo! at eventide he 

 returned to the tool-house, and allowed me to catch him and 

 replace him in " prison," where he seemed happy and con- 

 tented. But his eternal spinx, spinx, so worried me that at 

 last I sent him away, and may the season have mercy on his 



