WILD LIFE IN NOVEMBER 323 



changed at this season; the swift-winged Swallow 

 and the screeching Swift have departed; the 

 Cuckoo calls no longer from that favourite belt of 

 woodland; and Philomel, with his dark lustrous 

 eyes and enchanting melodies, has crossed by this 

 time many a tempestuous sea to a more congenial 

 clime. 



Those tree-top-loving birds, the Chiff Chaff and 

 Willow Wren, are heard no more, although some 

 individuals of the first-named remain in some 

 parts of England throughout the Winter — a re- 

 cently ascertained and thoroughly authentic fact: 

 but the vacant places of these and other feathered 

 visitors are made up for by the great inrush of 

 birds from northern latitudes and from the great 

 continent of Europe. 



Leave the woodland, and ramble into the more 

 open country; there we may find Golden Plovers 

 in large flocks ; Redwings and Fieldfares ; Meadow 

 Pipits and Snipe in the moist meadows; Snow 

 Buntings, and on the heaths Twites and Siskins; 

 whilst large additions of Starlings, Rooks, Crows, 

 and Larks are continually arriving on our shores. 

 It seems curious that many of the Larks which 

 are with us during the Autumn and Winter, the 

 Thrushes which visit our gardens and shrubberies, 

 or even the cheery Robin which sings plaintively 

 as he perches on the garden fence, and which bird 

 visitors we thoughtfully befriend in the hour of 



