230 BIRDS 



by other birds belonging to the same species 

 which have reached us from elsewhere. The 

 Song Thrush, which reared her spotted chicks in 

 the Laurel bush in the shrubbery, is probably not 

 the same bird which regularly comes upon the 

 lawn searching for worms and other tit-bits during 

 the Winter -time, and that bold bird which so 

 dexterously smashes Snails on the flint stones by 

 the rockery will not be the same bird which in 

 the early days of the New Year will charm our 

 ears with its liquid song. 



The Spotted Flycatcher, which reared its chicks 

 in the old Apple tree in the orchard, or which built 

 such a cosy nest in the porch overgrown with 

 Roses, Clematis, or Vine, was one day missing. 

 For several days he and his mate were seen on the 

 railings with their five young ones engaged in 

 catching more insects than one would care to 

 count — over forty separate journeys in a quarter 

 of an hour I observed one particular bird make 

 one Autumn — and their engaging and active 

 habits could not fail to attract notice. One day 

 they were missing, but we did not witness their 

 departure. Their exit was a silent one; no 

 gathering together of the clans, as it were, no 

 hurrying or scurrying; everything was carried 

 out silently and without excitement or noise. 

 The Tree Pipit, whose fascinating song-flights 

 were such a feature of our country walks in the 



