FROM YEAR TO YEAR. 253 
cated itself from its embarrassments and returned for more 
hempseed with a similar result. 
Every spring we have increasing numbers of greenfinches, 
and every spring they are a season tamer, coming about the 
windows with the confidence of the chaffinches ; their bright 
green plumage contrasting charmingly with the varied markings 
of the chaffinches, titmice and nuthatches, who are also regular 
visitors. The greenfinches appear in February, or the first 
week in March, according to the state of the weather, and after 
the young ones have been introduced to us, and taught the art 
of shelling hempseed, they all gradually disappear, and we see 
no more of them till the following year, although they are 
supposed to winter here. 
Another mystery that we cannot solve is the non-appearance 
of second broods amongst the chaffinches. According to all 
authorities the chaffinch is a double-brooded bird, and, because of 
their delightful tameness, we see more of them than of any other 
birds, redbreasts excepted. Of the second broods of blackbirds, 
thrushes and redbreasts we have evidence enough, and as for 
sparrows ! But the chaffinches seem to content themselves 
with one effort, and the young ones are brought to us with evident 
parental pride, to be admired and fed. In fact the yearly advent 
of the young chaffinches is an event looked forward to, and 
delighted in, by us all. It was in the last week of this year’s 
beautiful May that, as we drove along a lane on the edge of the 
moor, we noticed on a tall bush in the hedgerow a young yellow- 
hammer, perched on one of the topmost branches, taking its first 
look out into the great world. It was an afternoon of gorgeous 
beauty, and the sunshine glowed on its yellow plumage. It was 
a spring picture not to be forgotten, standing out as it did 
against the deep blue of the sky in the east. 
On another afternoon in the same week we were walking on 
the moor, and noticed what at first we thought was a small 
round stone under a great granite boulder ; but a closer inspec- 
tion showed us that it was a young stonechat, evidently put 
there by the old birds, gazing round it with the innocent fearless 
expression of young birds in lonely places. The parent birds, 
meantime, with more knowledge of the world and its wicked 
ways, came screaming round us in great distress. We assured 
them we meant no harm, and calling off the dog, left the young 
bird under the great boulder to continue its investigation of the 
new world on that glorious spring day. 
One day early in the spring a sparrow-hawk stunned itself 
by flying against one of the upstairs windows. We thought and 
hoped it was dead, and called to the man who was gardening to 
come and remove it. Just as he approached it, it made a 
supreme effort, and took flight to the nearest tree. After this 
we thought we were freer from its visits for a time, but later in 
the season its attacks became as violent as ever. One day in 
July we noticed a young thrush flopping helplessly about, and 
