THE SPRING OF 1908 301 



£rst Willow Wren. Both birds are remarkably 

 alike, unless closely examined. Both species are 

 Summer visitors to our island home (although 

 undoubtedly a few Chiff Chaffs spend the Winter 

 with us); both haunt the topmost branches of 

 the tallest trees in the woodland, and both birds 

 build their oval-shaped nests upon the ground. 

 How then can the birds be distinguished.'* By 

 their songs. Whilst the Chiff Chaff sings, " Chivy- 

 chavy, chivy-chavy," the Willow Wren utters a 

 most delicate, harmonious little strain, and has 

 aptly been called the piccolo soloist in the 

 orchestra of the woodland choir. 



As we sat on the Primrose-covered bank facing 

 South on Good Friday, " far from the madding 

 crowd," it was delightful to notice the friendliness 

 of the birds. A number of Chiff Chaffs, Willow 

 Wrens, Blue Tits, Hedge Sparrows, Chaffinches, a 

 Robin or two, and a few other kinds of feathered 

 folk, carried out a series of interesting operations 

 within arm's reach almost, and we congratulated 

 ourselves that we had once more kept up our time- 

 honoured associations of taking tea out of doors 

 in the wild greenwood on Good Friday. Alas! 

 we little knew as we sat on that southern bank 

 what was in store for us, but of this more anon. 

 Passing on our way, the sun commenced to sink 

 low in the West, the wind blew keen and chill; 

 but above its sighing my ear caught the notes of 



