286 MY COUNTRY WANDERINGS 



the birds singing! Skylarks in the fields border- 

 ing the woodland in incessant song; Song and 

 Mistle Thrushes in strong competition one against 

 the other as to the richness and variety of their 

 sweet cadences; nimble little Brown Wrens sing- 

 ing loud and long; Robins in sweeter dulcet notes 

 than ever; Chaffinches tuning their lutes and 

 practising that abruptly finished warble; Hedge 

 Sparrows uttering their cheery little matin from 

 the topmost twigs of the Hazel. Ring Doves have 

 found their love-songs, and I know of no more 

 rural sound; Great Tits make the woodland ring 

 with their Spring notes; a Blackbird or two con- 

 tribute their mellow vespers; Nuthatches call 

 loudly and Woodpeckers laugh; Tree Creepers 

 scamper round the tree-trunks as agile and frolic- 

 some as ever; a Sparrow Hawk pitches on a 

 neighbouring tree-top and casts around as to 

 where shall be laid those blood-daubed eggs ; noisy 

 Jays shriek with veritable delight that Spring is 

 again near at hand. Proud Pheasants strut by 

 the side of the woodland; Starlings chatter; and 

 noisy Rooks disport themselves on the ploughed 

 lands. 



For months past there has not been such com- 

 motion and jubilation in the birdland of the 

 woods as on this glorious March morning. 



One notices the threefold leaves of the Wood 

 Sorrel and the fast unrolling Honeysuckle; the 



