WHEN LIFE STIRS. 



willow-wren, — Cheevey — cheevey — chef chef— — 

 chef 



Then all is still, until some creature coming up 

 the river sounds a piping rattle ; a flash of brilliant 

 azure shoots round a bend and under the arches 

 of the ruined bridge. For one moment the king- 

 fisher shows on the other side, and again he is 

 gone ; and we rouse ourselves, because we too 

 must move on. 



Life is stirring in the air; only those who are 

 about betimes on the hills and in the woods, miles 

 away from the town or village, can fully enter into 

 the full meaning of the brisk life of the early part 

 of the year. The great tits feel it, and in gayest 

 plumage they are in pairs in the old pollarded 

 willows ; you hear Pincher ! pincher ! pincher ! as 

 it sounds only at this time of the year, when 

 things are moving. Gales have passed over, mak- 

 ing the branches of the trees creak and snap off, 

 but all is quiet again. The woods are looking 

 peaked up, — by that I mean, that though the buds 

 are showing, none are open yet ; but they are 

 ready to burst when the sun helps with his 

 warm rays. 



