82 FEESH FIELDS 



in a footpatli that ran through a pasture beside a 

 copse said, after reflecting a moment, that he had 

 heard one in that very copse two mornings before, 

 — "about seven o'clock, sir, while I was on my 

 way to my work, sir. " Then I would try my luck 

 in said copse and in the adjoining thickets that 

 night and the next morning. The railway ran 

 near, but perhaps that might serve to keep the birds 

 awake. These copses in this part of England look 

 strange enough to American eyes. What thriftless 

 farming! the first thought is; behold the fields 

 grown up to bushes, as if the land had relapsed to 

 a state of nature again. Adjoining meadows and 

 grain-fields, one may see an inclosure of many acres 

 covered with a thick growth of oak and chestnut 

 sprouts, six or eight or twelve feet high. These 

 are the copses one has so often heard about, and 

 they are a valuable and productive part of the farm. 

 They are planted and preserved as carefuUy as we 

 plant an orchard or a vineyard. Once in so many 

 years, perhaps five or six, the copse is cut and 

 every twig is saved; it is a woodland harvest that 

 in our own country is gathered in the forest itself. 

 The larger poles are tied up in bundles and sold 

 for hoop-poles; the fine branches and shoots are 

 made into brooms in the neighboring cottages and 

 hamlets, or used as material for thatching. The 

 refuse is used as wood. 



About eight o'clock in the evening I sallied 

 forth, taking my way over the ground I had 

 explored a few hours before. The gloaming, which 



