THE LOKEWAY 
123 
and tie him up by the leg. He makes such a squalling that all the jays within 
hearing (and he makes himself heard a long way) come to see what is the matter, 
and examine the case so closely that there is no trouble in shooting them from 
a cache conveniently contrived. As I say, I never heard of this being tried with 
magpies, but probably a young magpie would squawk just as loudly as a jay, and 
the magpies have their full share of corvine curiosity, so that they would probably 
come to see what the matter was just as readily as the jays. At least it could 5o 
no harm trying, and as the nesting season is just at hand there is an excellent 
opportunity of making the experiment. Should your correspondent try it, it 
would be interesting to hear whether it met with success. — H.” 
THE LOKEWAY. 
turn aside into the Lokeway after a tiring walk along 
dusty main road is like entering into the shady 
recesses of the woodlands. The Lokeway is only a 
few feet wide, and looking down it from the highway 
one seems to be peering into a green-walled tunnel, carpeted by 
fallen leaves and withered grass. The spreading branches of 
the bordering oaks meet overhead, and at times a tendril of ivy 
may be seen uniting the boughs of different trees, so that one 
might well believe that if the wind did not blow for a few weeks 
the ivy would get a firm hold and soon enfold them. Between 
the oaks are dark-leaved holly trees and blackthorn bushes, the 
foliage and flowers of which grow above the entangled brambles 
that often form fragile arches over the “ holl ” by the side of the 
footpath. The hedges have been untended for many years, and 
the “ holl ” is in places almost choked up with dead wood and 
matted masses of decayed vegetation. The bright green leaves 
of the arums are conspicuous on the hedge-banks, where the 
star-like blossoms of the lesser celandine are bleaching from 
yellow to white, and the dark-blue and grey-blue eyes of the 
speedwell peep out from among the cleavers. The quickset 
fences are full of birds, which flutter among the twigs and ruffle 
their feathers as they free themselves from their thorny coverts 
to fly across the adjoining fields. Some of them have settled 
on the footpath, and find it difficult to escape from the neigh- 
bourhood of an intruder, for the Lokeway is so overgrown and 
encompassed by bush growths that they cannot easily force 
themselves through them into the open air beyond the hedges. 
They fly from side to side of the leafy tunnel, poising, now and 
again for a moment, lightly on a bending briar, until they reach 
a gap in the fence where a gate opens into a field, and there 
they make a dash for and gain freedom. 
In the spring, when the winds are still keen in spite of the 
tempering heat of the sun, the temperature of the Lokeway is 
different to that of the main road. So sheltered is it by high 
hedges that little more than a breeze is felt by the footpasser. 
