134 Wild Life in a Sotitkern County 



and bushes, and presently the blackbird conies to stand a 

 minute on a stone which checks the tiny stream like a 

 miniature rock, and then to splash the clear water over 

 head and back with immense energy. He repeats this 

 several times, and immediately afterwards flies to an ad- 

 jacent rail, where, unfettered by boughs, he can preen his 

 feathers, going through his toilet with the air of a prince. 

 Finally, he perks his tail up, and challenges the world with 

 the call already mentioned, which seems now to mean, 

 ' Come and see Me ; am I not handsome ? ' 



On a warm June day, when the hedges are covered 

 with roses and the air is sweet with the odour of mown 

 grass, it is pleasant to listen to the blackbirds in the oaks 

 pouring forth their rich liquid notes. There is no note so 

 sweet and deep and melodious as that of the blackbird to 

 be heard in our fields ; it is even richer than the nightin- 

 gale's, though not so varied. Just before noonday — 

 between eleven and twelve — when the heat increases, he 

 leaves the low thick bushes and moist ditches and mounts 

 up into an oak tree, where, on a branch, he sits and sings. 

 Then another at a distance takes up the burden, till by- 

 and-by, as you listen, partly hidden in a gateway, four or 

 five are thus engaged in the trees of a single meadow. 



He sings in a quiet, leisurely way, as a great artist 

 should — there is no haste, no notes thickening on notes in 

 swift crescendo. His voice (so to speak) drops from him, 

 without an effort, and is so clear that it may be heard at a 

 long distance. It is not a set song; perhaps, in strict 

 language, it is hardly a song at all, but rather a succession 

 of detached notes with intervals between. Except when 

 singing, the blackbird does not often frequent trees ; he is 

 a hedge-bird, though sometimes when you are looking at 

 a field of green corn or beans one will rise out of it and 



