THE SWEET O' THE YEAR 
53 
but forgotten to fling their dulcet chidings and contra¬ 
dictions in our teeth. The slender, lightly flitting 
whitethroats are mysteriously busy amid the large old 
rose-bushes— cc turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May"— 
and on the lower plane, all about the lawns and in and 
out the box edgings, the sparrows and the starlings are 
making merry after their gross and mundane manner. 
Upon close acquaintance, I find the sparrows insolent 
but unafraid, while their patron the starling, for all his 
brazen mien, is merely a poltroon. There is one shiny 
rascal who has just secured some noisome bonne bouche , 
and suddenly become aware that I have seen him. So 
far from standing his ground like a stout fellow, he 
scuttles away as fast as his short legs can carry him to 
the shelter of the rhododendrons, for fear lest his un¬ 
savoury morsel be rapt away from him by my superior 
greed. All his habitudes wear the same plebeian stamp, 
and he would no more crack his snail upon a stone and 
eat it like a gentleman in my presence as would the 
thrush, than—-well, than he could rival his betters in 
shape or accent. 
You will observe, moreover, that although the wide, 
shallow bathing pool is boisterous as Brighton in July 
with families of sparrow and starling, its yellow marble 
rim shows no other birds. They choose a different time. 
I did well, I am assured, to plant bushes of sweet- 
briar at intervals along the lilac-walk, which is in fullest 
glory of its varied purples, blues, and white; for the 
two perfumes, like mingling songs of blackbird and of 
thrush, enhance and deepen each the other's charm. In 
the wide herbaceous borders and the wild garden the 
