26 IN BERKSHIRE FIELDS 



would settle over my garden which would seem like 

 the silence of the grave, as if the life breath had 

 gone out of nature; and I should be as one bereft. 

 That the birds eat so many insect pests and destroy 

 so many noxious weeds I am thankful. But I love 

 them just for their air-darting, feathered selves, for 

 their freedom, their friendliness, and their melody. 



