BRITISH BIRDS. fl 



stranger might easily wander about and say there were no birds ; they aUght 

 on a small bit of gorse, immediately disappear inside, and are no more seen. 

 One cannot help admiring the industry and patience of the oologist who in 

 1838, as recorded in Yarrell, found a nest of this species after watching 

 several hours every day for a fortnight — though how such exertions were 

 necessary is not understood. It is a mistake to suppose that very thick 

 gorse is selected ; a thin place is chosen. Dartford Warblers fly a long 

 distance to get materials (horse-hair &c.), and are very hard to see ; they dive 

 under so quickly, after darting suddenly down from the air. To-day there 

 was no sun ; they did not sing or spread their tails. 



Mem. — " May 6, 1869. At the hill again ; saw three nests containing four 

 fresh eggs each ; though four is the proper number, if the first be taken, it 

 very frequently lays five. These were about the same distance from the ground 

 as the one above mentioned. They were in the dead part of the bush and of 

 materials to imitate it, not in very thick parts. This nest is earlier than that 

 of the Whitethroat, which, passing, looks on the wing almost like a white bird, 

 while the Dartford Warbler looks black. The materials of the three nests are 

 roots, a little moss, some wool, and a few hairs, perhaps. The owners 

 fly a long way to gather food. The cock sits on the top of a bit of furze 

 (JUlex europcEus). Now he flirts his long tail, putting it up like the Common 

 Wren. Look ! he is blown almost round by a gust ; he is obliged to sit 

 head to wind. Observe how he swells his throat and puts up his crest, 

 looking red in front and black behind. The yellow flower of the furze 

 appears quite hot in the sun, and flaring. We have driven the hen off the 

 eggs, which the cock soon finds out and is after her, to inquire what she 

 means by it and send her back. This kind of thing must be seen to be 

 understood." 



With the breeze of the Enghsh south downs in his face and the tinkle 

 of the distant sheep -bell in his ear, the ornithologist basks in the sun of a 

 May morning and shares the joy of the little birds. Care, if any such he 

 had, seems so no longer ; Nature has banished it from his heart. Such an 



