Reviews.



221



In the preface something is said as to the variety of bird-life

to be met with in and about large towns and cities. We read that in

some well-wooded private grounds within two miles of the centre

of Birmingham eighty-six species of birds have been noted, and

that thirty-six have bred. This recalls to our mind a similar careful

record near Manchester, where, a few miles out on the north side

(which is by no means the city’s “ rural ” side), practically the same

number of species have been recently observed.


In June, “ the leafy month,” very pleasing reference is made

to bird-life. There is the real flavour of the woodlands in this

chapter, something very stately and captivating, as for example:


“The ‘Woodwele’ is, of course, the Green Woodpecker.

A forester born, he wears the Lincoln green, and his jocund shout

rings full and mellow on the ear in every well-timbered district,

whether it be amongst the great hedge-row elms of Warwickshire,

the noble beeches of Buckinghamshire, or the sturdy oaks which

love so well the clay soil of the Weald. Such oaks, which may well

have had their prime in Shakespeare's day, still cast their shade

upon the windings of the placid Avon.”


Of November we feel that the picture of “ its dark and

dismal days ” is overdrawn. November in the country is often far

from being a bad month ; and the author himself pays grateful

tribute to the time of St. Martin’s summer, which “ never fails to

bring us a day or two, sometimes a whole fortnight, when it is

summer again for the few sunlit hours on either side of mid-day,

when the Hies still bask against a sunny w'all and hive-bees visit

the ivy-blossom for their last scanty potations of the year.” These,

indeed, are “halcyon days of kindly skies and placid sea,” and

very remote from being dark and dismal. The November bird news

strikes us as particularly varied and interesting.


Is the author quite right in saying that the Hedge Sparrow’s

song always seems the same, either spring or autumn ? It is easy,

we think, to recognise in February, a marked increase of warmth

and fervour in its pleasant lay. We are told that Turtle Doves

cease to coo before the end of July; but, as a matter of fact, the

note is often to be heard in early August, even, within our own

observation, as late as the 19th. It is not correct to say that at



