3o8 MY COUNTRY WANDERINGS 



clouded skies, the songs of birds, the greening of 

 the hedgerows and trees, the blossoming of the 

 flowers. 



In the garden how anxiously we watched our 

 favourite plants, but how late and how lazy they 

 seemed ! Where the snow fell like a thunder- 

 clap from the roof top the Daffodils and Hyacinths 

 were ruined, and lay a tangled mass of dismantled 

 blossoms and leaves. 



The Tits returned to the garden for food, 

 whereas they should have been away in the wood- 

 land busily engaged upon family affairs. The 

 Robin hopped down as we turned up the soil in 

 April and snatched at a struggling Earthworm. 

 His right place was upon some sun-kissed grassy 

 bank rearing his spotted chicks. The Starling 

 perched disconsolately upon the weather-vane, 

 shrugged his shoulders, and called, "P-h-e-w!" 

 And well he might ! 



Many Summer birds were overdue. The Night- 

 ingale should have been singing in the thick 

 retreat of the Briar bush long before the first week 

 of May; the Whitethroat should have been seen 

 displaying his ludicrous antics over the hedgerow; 

 the Blackcap and the Garden Warbler (two of our 

 finest song birds) should both have returned to 

 their time-honoured habitats before April's lease 

 had run out; and the gentle Martin should have 

 been in her place under the eaves. That they 



