shall never forget the first woodcock I
shot as a boy; it was a thick misty day in November, I fired, and
though I felt certain I had not missed, the smoke hung and the air was
too thick to see, and, after a long search, I left the wood and was
going home when our old spaniel, Flush, turned his head to examine
something in a deep cart rut. Following the direction of his eyes, I
saw my woodcock; it must have flown 100 yards or more after I fired. I
was still more pleased with the last shot I fired in our old Surrey
covers at a woodcock going like an express train--and faster, for they
are said to fly at the rate of 150 miles an hour--with all his tricks,
through thick branches in the adjoining cover, where he fell at least
65 yards from where I stood. A friend of mine had the good-fortune to
see an old woodcock, which had evidently bred in his woods, flying,
followed by five or six young ones; he said it was one of the
prettiest bits of natural history he had ever seen.

"If a woodcock had a partridge's breast
He'd be the best bird that ever was dressed;
If a partridge had a woodcock's thigh
He'd be the best bird that ever did fly."

is a very old description, and fairly divides the honours between the
two birds.

The hawfinch is very easily recognized by its distinct and beautiful
colouring; it is a shy bird, and though it bred regularly at
Aldington, we rarely saw it. It is commoner here, and is sometimes
very destructive, its powerful beak making havoc with the
"marrowfats"; but, though I am partial to green peas of this
description, I would sooner suffer some damage than have the
hawfinches shot.

In 1918 the cuckoos were exceedingly numerous here, and round my house
they were calling all day long. Owing to the terrible winter and early
spring months of the previous year, so many of the insectivorous birds
had been destroyed, that the caterpillars had escaped, and were more
numerous than ever in the following spring. The oaks in places were
completely stripped of their foliage by the larvae of _Tortrix
viridana_, almost as soon as the leaves were out. The cuckoos
discovered them, but were not in sufficient numbers to keep them down,
and it was midsummer before the trees recovered. I have referred to
the damage in my plum orchard at Aldington from the attack of the
larvae of the winter-moth; the damage is not confined to the actual
year of its occurrence, the crop suffers the following year o