BIRD-HAUNTED LONDON 123 



of the same year I saw a lesser whitethroat in the 

 orchard. I was standing quite still under an apple- 

 tree, and the little bird flew on to a branch three 

 yards above my head, and immediately plunged into 

 frantic song — sipper, sipper, sipper, sipper — ^two notes 

 rapidly repeated like a row of exclamation marks. 

 So near to the bird, I could tell that it was a trifle 

 smaller bird than the common whitethroat, and more 

 reddish brown on the upper parts. As Mr. Coward 

 points out, the surest way of distinguishing between 

 greater and lesser whitethroat are the much darker 

 ear-coverts of the latter. But you must get a better 

 than a bird's-eye view of him to tell them apart. 



The willow-wren slips through the gardens as well, 

 and I have had him back in mine, on August 10th, 

 singing the ghost of his spring lyric in the middle 

 of the day. By the middle of August greenfinches 

 and chaffinches begin to drift back to their autumn 

 and winter haunts, and the swallows and martins 

 (whose final doom comes perceptibly nearer year by 

 year) are educating their families. On the same day 

 that the willow-wren appeared in the garden there 

 was a great congregation of swallows, and I counted 

 one hundred and fifty-three perched on the telegraph- 

 wires within ten yards of the house, while fifty others 

 swarmed like bees about it. Then suddenly they were 

 all gone, and ten minutes later the normal number 

 were hawking the skies. It was exactly like a rehearsal 

 for migration, and may indeed have been something of 

 the kind. Several of the martins built nests in the gables 

 of the houses of my road, though not, alas! in mine, 

 and one very late brood was, I have strong reason to 

 believe, deserted. 



It is interesting to watch martins house-hunting in 

 a road (my road) where they have built in previous 

 years. A pair of them will inspect one house after 

 another, swooping up under the gables, fluttering before 

 them, and then passing on, unable as yet to make up 

 their minds. Once the site is chosen, the tenants will 

 stand no nonsense from other pairs on their search. 

 In August, the martins begin to flock the skies about 



