66 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NATURE 



builds late, though he has been here 

 a long time; he waits for the ripening 

 of certain seeds to feed his young. 

 " Ker, cher, che, che ! just look 

 at me!" he calls, and straightway 

 roughs his golden breast and fanwise 

 smooths out his sable wings, speeding 

 with a dipping flight to his shy olive 

 mate, whistling softly, "We two, we 

 two." 



On each side of the road stretch the 

 rough stone walls, skirting the pastures, 

 intersecting fields and overgrown wood 

 lots. The chipmunk darts in through 

 the chinks, and gambols, whisks up a 

 branch that holds a nest and hides again 

 from the angry birds. The fields of 

 straight-limbed timothy have cast their 

 seed, and already we hear the clatter- 

 ing buzz of the horse-mower. Top- 

 pling, the grass falls sideways into 

 lines, and much labour is saved, even 



