90 A HUNT FOR THE NIGHTINGALE, 



through a pasture beside a copse said, after reflecting 

 a moment, that he had heard one in that very copse 

 two mornings before "about seven o'clock, sir, 

 while I was on my way to my work, sir." Then I 

 would try my luck in said copse and in the adjoining 

 thickets that night and the next morning. The rail- 

 way ran near, but perhaps that might serve to keep 

 the birds awake. These copses in this part of Eng- 

 land look strange enough to American eyes. What 

 thriftless farming ! the first thought is \ behold the 

 fields grown up to bushes, as if the land had relapsed 

 to a state of nature again. Adjoining meadows and 

 grain-fields one may see an inclosure of many acres 

 covered with a thick growth of oak and chestnut 

 sprouts, six or eight or twelve feet high. These are 

 the copses one has so often heard about, and they 

 are a valuable and productive part of the farm. They 

 are planted and preserved as carefully as we plant 

 an orchard or a vineyard. Once in so many years, 

 perhaps five or six, the copse is cut and every twig 

 is saved ; it is a woodland harvest that in our own 

 country is gathered in the forest itself. The larger 

 poles are tied up in bundles and sold for hoop-poles ; 

 the fine branches and shoots are made into brooms in 

 the neighboring cottages and hamlets, or used as ma- 

 terial for thatching. The refuse is used as wood. 



About eight o'clock in the evening I sallied forth, 

 taking my way over the ground I had explored a few 

 hours before. The gloaming, which at this season 

 lasts till after ten o'clock, dragged its slow length 



