HA RD WICKE'S S CIENCE- G OS SIP. 



iSt 



seems deserted ; but on getting close to the wall of a 

 vegetable garden, on which we are going to make 

 our first attack, we perceive we are not alone. 

 There, close under a hedge, is a blackbird, hard at 

 work getting his breakfast. Close to him are two or 

 three linnets picking the seed off some grass, and on 

 a row of peas hard by a wren is busily hopping from 

 twig to twig in search of prey, A pair of bullfinches 

 are enjoying themselves on a heap of dead wood, 

 within gunshot ; and as we want one for a specimen, 

 we take aim and fire. Bang ! down drops the 

 female, and we hastily reload and climb the garden 

 wall to get our victim. The wall, however, is built 

 of a pile of loose stones, and we almost push part of 

 it down in our attempt to get over. On arriving 

 safely at the other side, we pick up our bullfinch, 

 and having smoothed her feathers and plugged any 

 shot-holes to prevent the blood from damaging the 



The aspect of the scene has changed since we 

 started : the sun is now shining brightly, and shedding 

 light and warmth everywhere. The birds, wakened 

 into life by its genial presence, are filling the air with 

 their varied songs and calls. Overhead a flock of 

 starlings is winging its way to distant feeding-grounds. 

 Numerous water-wagtails are busily attending the 

 cows, and innumerable robins and other birds are 

 trilling forth their songs from the hedges. We 

 traverse the slippery slopes to the extremity of our 

 domain, and finding a hollow in the hedge, we station 

 ourselves therein and await results. A rustle of wings, 

 and there, within a few yards of us, is a yellow- 

 ammer, gazing around him. We raise our gun, but 

 the movement is perceived, and a flash like a depart- 

 ing meteor is all that can be seen of our intended 

 victim. Fortune favours us, however ; for a little 

 way off, in the very bush itself, is a tomtit. We 



plumage, we hide the body in a crack in the wall so 

 that it may cool unruffled, and prepare for another 

 victim. It is impossible, however, to get another 

 shot in the garden at present, so we proceed down 

 the field close to the right-hand hedge, keeping a 

 sharp look-out for birds. Suddenly we hear a rustling 

 at the bottom of the hedge, and we are immediately 

 on the "qui-vive," but find that the cause of this 

 disturbance is an innocent field-mouse, provendering 

 for its young. A chirping nearly over our head 

 attracts our attention, and on looking up, there, 

 right before us, sitting on a twig that projects from 

 the hedge, is a speckled bird, evidently enjoying the 

 fresh morning. Such a chance is not to be lost, and 

 we give him the benefit of a charge of shot, which 

 tumbles him dead at our feet. We pick up the bird, 

 which we discover to be a tree-pippit, and, after 

 gazing admiringly at him, we treat him as we did the 

 other, and deposit him in a dry place under the 

 hedge, " to be called for." 



bring him down with a shot, and treat him — "as if 

 we loved him ! " By this time a certain feeling of 

 emptiness within warns us that it is getting near 

 breakfast-time, so we wend our way back to the 

 garden, collecting our specimens as we go, conveying 

 them to their destination in our hat, which we 

 remove for the purpose. This expedient we adopt 

 in the hope of getting another shot before we leave 

 off. Nor are we disappointed, for close to an old 

 cowhouse is a fine water-wagtail. By creeping under 

 shelter of the hedge we are able to get within range, 

 and fire. To our great delight the wagtail topples 

 over, making our first and only specimen of his kind. 

 Knowing that the birds in the neighbourhood are 

 now disturbed by this last report, and therefore not 

 approachable, we gather up the spoil, reclimb the 

 gate, and, entering the house, sit down to, and 

 heartily enjoy, the breakfast which we at least think 

 we have fairly earned. 



D. W. Collings. 



