A YEAR WITH THE BIRDS. 
287 
and Whitethroats were every morning to be seen or heard, are like so 
many desolate college rooms in the heart of the Long Vacation. 
Deserted nests, black and mouldy, come to light as the leaves drop 
from the trees—nurseries whose children have gone forth to try their 
fortunes in distant countries. But we soon discover that things are 
not so bad as they seem. The silence is not quite unbroken ; winter 
visitors arrive, and the novelty of their voices is cheering, even if they 
do not break into song ; some kinds are here in greater numbers than 
in the hot weather, and others show themselves more boldly, emerging 
from leafy recesses in search of food and sunshine.” * * * 
“ I mentioned Parsons’Pleasure just now ; and we may take it very 
well as a starting-point, offering, as it does, in a space of less than 
a hundred yards square, every kind of supply that a bird can possibly 
want; water, sedge, reeds, meadows, gravel, railings, hedges, and 
trees and bushes of many kinds, forming abundant cover. In this 
cover, as you walk along the footpath towards the weir, you will very 
likely see a pair of Bullfinches. They were here the greater part of 
last winter, and are occasionally seen even in college and private 
gardens ; but very rarely in the breeding season or the summer, when 
they are away in the densest woods, where their beautiful nest and 
eggs are not too often found. Should they be at their usual work of 
devouring buds, it is well worth while to stop and watch the process ; 
at Parsons’ Pleasure they can do no serious harm, and the Bullfinch’s 
bill is not an instrument to be lightly passed over. It places him 
apart from all other common English birds, and brings him into the 
same sub-family as the Crossbill and the Pine-Grosbeak. It is short, 
wide, round, and parrot-like in having the upper mandible curved down¬ 
wards over the lower one, and altogether admirably suited for snipping 
off and retaining those fat young juicy buds from which, as some 
believe, the Bullfinch has come by his name.* 
“ Parsons’ Pleasure, i.e., the well-concealed bathing place which 
goes by this name, stands at the narrow apex of a large island, which 
is formed by the Biver Cherwell—itself here running in two channels, 
which enclose the walk known as Mesopotamia—and the slow and 
often shallow stream by which Holywell Mill is worked. The bird- 
lover will never cross the rustic bridge which brings him into the 
island over this latler stream without casting a rapid glance to right 
and left. Here in the summer we used to listen to the Nightingale, or 
watch the Bedstarts and Flycatchers in the willows, or feast our eyes 
with the splendid deep and glossy black-blue of the Swallow’s back as 
he darted up and down beneath the bridge, in doubtful weather. 
And here, of a winter morning, you may see a pair of Moorfowl 
paddling out of the large patch of rushes that lies opposite the bathing- 
place on the side of the Parks ; here they breed in the summer, with 
only the little Beed-warblers as companions. And here there is always 
in winter at least a chance of seeing a Kingfisher. Why these beautiful 
birds are comparatively seldom to be seen in or about Oxford from 
March to July is a question not very easy to answer. The keeper of 
the bathing-place tells me that they go up to breed in ditches which 
run down to the Cherwell from the direction of Marston and Elsfield ; 
and this is perhaps borne out by the discovery of a nest by a friend of 
mine, then incumbent of Woodeaton, in a deserted quarry between 
that village and Elsfield, fully a mile from the river. One would 
* The name is said to be a corruption of bucl-finch. But Professor 
Skeat (Etym. Diet., s. v. Bull) compares it with bull-dog , the prefix in 
each case suggesting the stout build of the animal. 
