BIRDS IN A VILLAGE 55 



becoming more a resident species in its winter 

 home in Africa. But all conjectures are idle in such 

 a case. It is melancholy, at all events for the ornitho- 

 logist, to think of an England without a wryneck ; 

 but before that still distant day arrives let us hope 

 that the love of birds will have become a common 

 feeling in the mass of the population, and that the 

 variety of our bird life will have been increased by 

 the addition of some chance colonists and of many 

 new species introduced from distant regions. 



I have h'ngered long over the wryneck, but have 

 still a story to relate of this bird — ^not a fairy tale 

 this time, but true. 



On the border of the village adjoining the wood — 

 the side where birds were more abundant, and which 

 consequently had the greatest attraction for me — 

 there stood an old picturesque cottage nearly con- 

 cealed from sight by the hedge in front, with closely 

 planted trees clustering round it. On one side was a 

 grass field, on the other an orchard of old cherry, 

 apple, and plum trees, all the property of the old 

 man living in the cottage, who was a character in 

 his way ; at all events, he had not been fashioned 

 in quite the same mould as the majority of the 

 cottagers about him. They mostly, when past 

 middle life, wore a heavy, dull, and somewhat de- 

 pressed look. This man had a twinkle in his dark 



