here because there are not many oaks; the oak is the
blackbird's favourite song-tree. There was one one day whistling with
all his might on the lower branch of an elm, at the very roadside, and
just above him a wood-pigeon was perched. A pair of turtle-doves built
in the same hedge one spring, and while resting on the gate by the
roadside their "coo-coo" mingled with the song of the nightingale and
thrush, the blackbird's whistle, the chiff-chaff's "chip-chip," the
willow-wren's pleading voice, and the rustle of green corn as the wind
came rushing (as it always does to a gateway).

Goldfinches come by occasionally, not often, but still they do come. The
rarest bird seems to be the bullfinch. I have only seen bullfinches
three or four times in three seasons, and then only a pair. Now, this is
worthy a note, as illustrating what I have often ventured to say about
the habitat of birds being so often local, for if judged by observation
here the bullfinch would be said to be a scarce bird by London. But it
has been stated upon the best authority that only a few miles distant,
and still nearer town, they are common.

The road now becomes bordered by elms on either side, forming an
irregular avenue. Almost every elm in spring has its chaffinch loudly
challenging. The birdcatchers are aware that it is a frequented resort,
and on Sunday mornings four or five of them used to be seen in the
course of a mile, each with a call bird in a partly darkened cage, a
stuffed dummy, and limed twigs. In the cornfields on either hand
wood-pigeons are numerous in spring and autumn. Up to April they come
in flocks, feeding on the newly sown grain when they can get at it, and
varying it with ivy berries, from the ivy growing up the elms. By
degrees the flocks break up as the nesting begins in earnest.

Some pair and build much earlier than others; in fact, the first egg
recorded is very little to be depended on as an indication. Particular
pairs (of many kinds of birds) may have nests, and yet the species as a
species may be still flying in large packs. The flocks which settle in
these fields number from one to two hundred. Rooks, wood-pigeons, and
tame white pigeons often feed amicably mixed up together; the white tame
birds are conspicuous at a long distance before the crops have risen, or
after the stubble is ploughed.

I should think that the corn farmers of Surrey lose more grain from the
birds than the agriculturists whose tenancies are