72 NATURE NOTES. 
ing her young ones how to gather therefrom the aphides that 
they love so much. 
Against the voices of the birds that sing above or around 
them our canaries love to try their songs ; and it is interesting 
to listen to the contest that goes on between one sweet singer 
under the roses, and another on or above them. But this sing- 
ing is, of course, in joyous weather. In a severe winter, such 
as the one in 1894-5, when even the water-pipes laid deep under- 
ground were frozen, all birds are very hard-pressed to live any- 
how. The gulls press up the Thames, dive down with eager 
clamour to seize pieces of food that may be thrown to them, 
and seem perhaps to fare best of all. The close-pressed rooks 
and jackdaws then sit watchfully on neighbouring trees, sail 
over the little garden wistfully, swoop down on other birds’ 
food, and sometimes fly off with a piece in their claws. The 
thrushes and blackbirds, who charm us in summer with their 
songs, come in crowds to the old apple tree, fly up therefrom ta 
gather in their beaks a ripe black ivy-berry, and eat it as we 
should some rich grape. And then, too, it is that — 
“ The redbreast, sacred to the household gods. 
Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky, 
In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves 
Ilis shivering mates, and pays to trusted man 
His annual visit. Half afraid, he first 
Against the window beats, then, brisk, alights 
On the warm hearth, then, hopping o’er the floor. 
Eyes all the smiling family askance. 
And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is ; 
Till, more familiar grown, the table-crumbs 
Attract his slender feet.” 
In a small balcony on the river-side of the house, we can sit 
and enjoy many nature-pleasures on fine evenings. In springy 
the arrival of the migrants may be watched, and their notes 
caught ; the winging home of rooks and jackdaws to their nest- 
lings may be observed ; and we may see some heron sailing aloft 
slowly home from its feeding ground. In summer, bird-life is still 
more plentiful ; and then the glories of sunset cast golden tints 
over earth, sk}', and river. But the greatest of all these delights 
are, I think, in autumn. Then, after the swallows have gone to 
roost, the bats come out for their evening flights, which, from 
our inability to see what they are chasing, look so weird and 
eccentric ; by-and-by, the glorious swifts join the bats, and 
wing among them their rapid flight with joyful screams; till, 
as day dies, the swifts disappear, the bats become ready 
almost to fly into your hand, and you pass into the delightful 
quietude of an autumn evening. 
Of all plants, the growth of the perennials interests us, 
perhaps, most. Through their appearance year after year, we 
get to look out for them as familiar friends. Thus we have rows 
of bright pansies that come up every year, and are j)retty and 
long-lived : clumps of forget-me-nots that arc self-sown, renew- 
