BOUND A LONDON COPSE. IS.*] 



Immediately it became milder they recommenced to 

 coo, so that at intervals the note of the wood-pigeon 

 was heard in the adjacent house from October, all 

 through the winter, till the nesting time in May. 

 Sometimes towards sunset in the early spring they all 

 perched together before finally retiring on the bare, 

 slender tips of the tall birch trees, exposed and clearly 

 visible against the sky. 



Six once alighted in a row on a long birch branch, 

 bending it down with their weight like a heavy load of 

 fruit. The stormy sunset flamed up, tinting the fields 

 with momentary red, and their hollow voices sounded 

 among the trees. By May they had paired off, and 

 each couple had a part of the copse to themselves. 

 Instead of avoiding the house, they seemed, on the 

 contrary, to come much nearer, and two or three 

 couples built close to the garden. 



Just there, the wood being bare of undergrowth, 

 there was nothing to obstruct the sight but some few 

 dead hanging branches, and the pigeons or ringdoves 

 could be seen continually flying up and down from 

 the ground to their nests. They were so near that 

 the darker marking at the end of the tail, as it was 

 spread open to assist the upward flight to the branch, 

 was visible. Outside the garden gate, and not more 

 than twenty yards distant, there stood three young 

 spruce firs, at the edge of the copse, but without the 

 boundary. To the largest of these one of the pigeons 

 came now and then ; he was half inclined to choose it 

 for his nest. 



The noise of their wings as they rose and threshed 

 their strong feathers together over the tops of the trees 



