BIRDS IN A VILLAGE 129 



a few rich notes, the prelude to his song. I went 

 and stood by the open window, intently listening, 

 when he sang again, but only a phrase or two. But 

 I listened still, confidently expecting more ; for 

 although it was now long past his singing season, 

 that splendid sunshine would compel him to express 

 his gladness. Then, just when a fresh burst of music 

 came, it was disturbed by another sound close by — 

 a human voice, also singing. On the other side of 

 the hedge in which the bird sat concealed was a 

 cottage garden, and there on a swing fastened to a 

 pair of apple trees, a girl about eleven years old sat 

 lazily swinging herself. Once or twice after she began 

 singing the nightingale broke out again, and then at 

 last he became silent altogether, his voice over- 

 powered by hers. Girl and bird were not five yards 

 apart. 



It greatly surprised me to hear her singing, for 

 it was eleven o'clock, when all the village children 

 were away at the national school, a time of day 

 when, so far as human sounds were concerned, 

 there reigned an almost unbroken silence. But very 

 soon I recalled the fact that this was a very lazy child, 

 and concluded that she had coaxed her mother into 

 sending an excuse for keeping her at home, and so 

 had kept her liberty on this beautiful morning. About 

 two minutes* walk from the cottage, at the side of 

 the crooked road running through the village, there 



