onstantly passing. They are
specially abundant at the foot of the Cotswolds, and it is a treat to
cycle steadily along the road between Broadway and Weston Subedge on a
summer evening, where you no sooner lose the liquid notes of one, than
you enter the territory of another, so continuous is the song for
miles together.

In severe winters wood-pigeons did much damage at Aldington to young
clover a few inches high; they roosted in "the island" adjoining my
garden. When they first descended they alighted in the wide-spreading
branches of the leafless black poplars, where they could see all
round, and reconnoitre the position; then, if all was quiet, in about
ten minutes they took to the shelter of the fir trees for the night
with much fluttering and beating of wings against the thick branches.
They devour the acorns in the Forest very greedily in the autumn, and
I have seen one with crop so full that on my approach it could only
with difficulty fly away to a short distance. I found it near a small
pond where, apparently, it had been drinking, and the acorns had
expanded to an inconvenient extent.

The golden-crested wren was a common bird here before the severe
winter of 1916-1917, but it has since become comparatively rare; it is
the smallest of British birds, and could often be seen in the hedges
exploring every twig and crevice for insects, and it was a great
pleasure to watch the nimble movements of such a sweet little fairy.
Its first cousin, the fire-crest, which is almost its exact
counterpart, except for the flame-coloured crest, is much rarer; and I
only remember seeing one specimen, to which with great circumspection
I managed to approach quite closely, in the wood near my house.

One morning, at Aldington, the gardener came in to say there was a
hawk in the greenhouse near the rickyard; we found a pane of glass
broken, where it had unintentionally entered in pursuit of a sparrow;
the hawk was uninjured, and flew away quite unconcernedly on the
opening of the door. Another hawk, here in Burley, was found dead near
my drawing-room bow-window. It had dashed itself against a pane of
thick plate-glass while in pursuit of a starling, I think; seeing the
light through the bow, it had not recognized the glass, and must have
collided with it in the act of swooping. I have several times seen
hawks descend like a flash from a tree, and select an unlucky starling
from a flock; one blow on the head settled the victim bef