Spaniels and Hedgeliogs. 209 



remarkable absence of song from hedge and tree : 

 even the chirp of the house-sparrow is seldom heard 

 on the roof, where only recenth' it was loud and 

 continuous. Most of the sparrows have, in fact, left 

 the houses in flocks and resorted to the corn-lields 

 after the grain. In this silent season the robin, 

 the wood-pigeon, and the greenfinch seem the only 

 birds whose notes are at all common : the pigeons 

 call in the evening as the^^ come to the copse, the 

 greenfinches in a hushed kind of wa^' talk to each 

 other in the hedge, and the robin plaintively utters 

 a few notes on the tree. It is not absolute si- 

 lence indeed ; but the difference is A-ery noticeable. 

 Through the ash poles on one side of the copse dis- 

 tant glimpses may be obtained of gleaming water, 

 where a creek of the shallow lake runs in towards it. 



Bordering the furze a thick hawthorn hedge — a 

 double mound — extends, so wide as to be itself 

 almost another copse. In the ' rowetty ' grass on 

 the bank or in the hollow places, under fallen leaA^es 

 and trailing ivy, the hedgehog hides during the day, 

 so completel}' concealed that while the sun shines it 

 is extremely difficult to find one without a dog. 



A spaniel racing down the mound will pounce on 

 the spot and scratch the hedgehog out in a moment ; 

 then, missing the dog, you presently hear a whining 

 kind of bark — half rage, half pain — and know im- 

 mediately what he is doing. He is trying to unroll 

 the hedgehog, who, so soon as he felt the approach 

 of the enemy, curled himself into a ball, with the 

 sharp spines sticking out everywhere. The spaniel, 

 snapping at the animal, runs these quills deep into 

 his jowl ; he draws back, snaps again, shakes his 

 14 



