•NOT HUNGRY, THANK YOU." 



THE LONG-TAILED TIT 



By A. J. R. ROBERTS, B.A. 



Illustrated with Photographs by the Author 



CHURR, churr," in low, lover-like 

 tones echoed a similar call, and 

 a Long-tailed Tit — the daintiest 

 ball of feathers imaginable — flew to re- 

 join its mate, paused to gather a tiny 

 morsel of moss or lichen, and then passed 

 on. " Churr, churr," called the second 

 bird, as though afraid of losing touch even 

 for a moment with its newly-found partner, 

 and thus they flitted from branch to 

 branch and tree to tree, unwittingly lead- 

 ing me into the sheltered valley which 

 they had made their home. 



A swift woodland brook, sparkling and 

 singing in tiny rapids over a gravelly bed, 

 silent and sliadowy in the deeper swirling 

 Dools, caressed the foot now of one, now 



of the other of the twin hills that hemmed 

 it in, as though unable to decide upon 

 which to bestow its favours. On either 

 bank the hills rose steeply, though to no 

 great height, each well wooded, yet totally 

 different in character. Facing east, an 

 oak wood, bare as 3'et, carpeted with 

 dead brown leaves, relieved here and 

 there by a clump of primroses on long, 

 slender stalks, seemed dark and mysteri- 

 ous by contrast to the sunny, smiling 

 valley — a fitting haunt for the carrion 

 crow, the hawk, and the owl which lived 

 there and sallied forth to perform their 

 deeds of darkness. 



The other hill, flooded with the after- 

 noon sunlight, was crowned by a coppice 



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