3i6 MY COUNTRY WANDERINGS 



dent de lion, meaning tooth-of-lion. The edges of 

 the leaves are roughly serrated and are supposed 

 to resemble the tooth of the Lion. 



It is a remarkable thing how few people take 

 notice of the golden disc shining resplendent in the 

 Autumn sunlight. Many, passing by the flower, 

 heed it not. Overhead a Skylark sings. Listen 

 to its minstrelsy as the bird pours out sweet lilting 

 notes from its little instrumental throat. The 

 passer-by probably heeds neither the bird nor the 

 flower. 



In the tall Elm beyond the Hawthorn hedge a 

 Song Thrush is practising in a monotone. Listen! 

 He dare not trust himself to utter those rich, loud, 

 varied notes that we know he is capable of emit- 

 ting, but it is a young bird of the year, and by 

 next Spring great improvement in the measure 

 of the song will be manifest. 



Look at this stone. Verily, in the country one 

 must look both above and below — new sights and 

 sounds are continually cropping up. Well, the 

 stone, what of it ? See those broken shells of 

 many Snails ? That is where a Thrush enjoys his 

 breakfast. He is a great lover of the Snail, and 

 upon the Downs I have often found his favourite 

 flint stone and evidence of his work: flint-stone 

 implements of our forefathers, flint-stone imple- 

 ments of a bird, lying side by side ! 



The Scotch Fir trees bear a beautiful bloom of 



