50 
NATURE NOTES 
It has been cut very low by the grey haired old hedgeman, but 
ivy clustered almost continuously, and clinging wandering honey- 
suckle is present in plenty. In that likely looking clump we 
find a hedge sparrow’s nest, containing four deliciously blue eggs. 
Rather a large nest for so small a bird, we observe in passing. 
Rut lo, here, not a foot away in the same clump, a speckled 
thrush has placed its marvellous homestead. How beautifully 
rounded is the cow-dung interior, and how those freckled blue 
eggs— 
“ Ink-spotted over, shells of green and blue: 
Like heath-bells gilt with dew,” 
Stand out against the brown ground-work of the nest. 
In the young fir trees — the green tassels now in all their 
beauty — the rival males are singing. The cheery hedge accentor, 
clad in plain brown livery, is content to warble sweet and low, 
but king thrush pours out his rich mellow notes, 
“ Tiurru, tiurra, chipiwi, too-tee, too-tee, chinchoo,” 
loud and long. This is their language, and what those musical 
utterances mean may be rivalry on the part of the males. 
Walking on, a nest of the chaffinch presents itself in a low 
beech. We remark that it is very rare that any bird places its 
nest in such a tree — at least that is our experience. 
All along the hedges blue-bells are blooming, together with 
billy buttons, and many coloured leaves of the shooting sycamore 
make a fine background. We stoop to pluck one of these wild 
hyacinths, and in the act frighten a robin out of the tangled ivy 
bank. Looking carefully we find the snuggest nest imaginable — 
just a small hole between the fallen leaves for the ingress and 
egress of the bird ; but pulling one or two of the leaves away with 
the fingers exhibits the beautifully constructed nest. It is quite 
read}' for the red freckled eggs, which let us hope will be safely 
hatched, and the youngsters safely reared. Farther on two or 
three more hedge sparrows’ nests — all with those delicately 
painted shells — and a fluty blackbird strikes up his alarm cry. 
In between a sturdy nut hazel stem we find the well constructed 
nest. How strongly felted together it is, so much so that no 
wind can shift it. Two greenish eggs, blotched with brown, we 
observe, then make the nest somewhat more secluded from the 
gangs of nest robbers, and we pass on. How the cowslips smell, 
they betray their presence over the side of the hedgerow. We 
mount the bank and a whole row of glittering yellow and dark 
gold meets the eye, with drooping bells of blue mingling in 
between. 
Near here is an old tree, the stump only left. There are 
many holes in it, and on tapping half a dozen mimicking starlings 
fly out. A pair of green woodpeckers inhabit one of the holes 
too, and at the top, in that jagged fissure, the little tree creeper 
has chosen a nesting place. 
rest awhile by the old rustic gateway, and whilst doing 
