142 MTDSUMMEE WEEDS 



summer. A fine specimen formed the chief ornament of 

 Whitchurch in Hampshire when I passed through that 

 sequestered village ten days ago (1902). It covers half the 

 front of a house, from the ground to the eaves, with a 

 beautiful mantle of deep blue. 



XXI 



The food of the dipper or water-ousel has been a frequent 

 The rood of subject of controversy. Anglers suspect this 

 the Dipper ijyely bird of a partiality for trout and salmon 

 spawn. Professor Newton, if I remember aright, repels the 

 accusation. Lately (1902) I was a witness of the dipper's 

 expertness in catching fish. I was trying, with notably iU 

 success, to inveigle a salmon out of a certain pool. On the 

 opposite bank a hill burn flows into the river, rippling over 

 gravelly shallows, a favourite gathering-ground for min- 

 nows. My friend the dipper was just as busy fishing as I 

 was, and with better luck. He dashed repeatedly through 

 the shoal, using his wings as fins (this power, also, has been 

 called in question), now under water, now on the surface. 

 At last, after many failures, he caught a minnow, went 

 ashore with it, and having, I suppose, pinched the wriggle 

 out of the wretch, winged his flight to a cascade high in 

 the oak copse on the hill, where, no doubt, a little hungry 

 circle of Masters and Misses Dippers were awaiting their 

 fish course. 



XXII 



One need not be a disappointed angler to murmur 



Midsummer against some of the normal phenomena of 



Weeds summer in a country so thoroughly drained as 



ours. The ground gapes ; pastures exchange their verdure 



