he bright
prickly holly, the pendent foliage of the bramble, and the deep orange
leaves of the pollard oaks! Oh, this is rime in its loveliest form! And
there is still a berry here and there on the holly, 'blushing in its
natural coral' through the delicate tracery, still a stray hip or haw
for the birds, who abound here always. The poor birds, how tame they
are, how sadly tame! There is the beautiful and rare crested wren, 'that
shadow of a bird,' as White of Selborne calls it, perched in the middle
of the hedge, nestling as it were amongst the cold bare boughs, seeking,
poor pretty thing, for the warmth it will not find. And there, farther
on, just under the bank, by the slender runlet, which still trickles
between its transparent fantastic margin of thin ice, as if it were a
thing of life,--there, with a swift, scudding motion, flits, in short
low flights, the gorgeous kingfisher, its magnificent plumage of scarlet
and blue flashing in the sun, like the glories of some tropical bird.
He is come for water to this little spring by the hillside,--water which
even his long bill and slender head can hardly reach, so nearly do the
fantastic forms of those garland-like icy margins meet over the tiny
stream beneath. It is rarely that one sees the shy beauty so close or
so long; and it is pleasant to see him in the grace and beauty of his
natural liberty, the only way to look at a bird. We used, before we
lived in a street, to fix a little board outside the parlour window, and
cover it with bread crumbs in the hard weather. It was quite delightful
to see the pretty things come and feed, to conquer their shyness, and
do away their mistrust. First came the more social tribes, 'the robin
red-breast and the wren,' cautiously, suspiciously, picking up a crumb
on the wing, with the little keen bright eye fixed on the window; then
they would stop for two pecks; then stay till they were satisfied. The
shyer birds, tamed by their example, came next; and at last one saucy
fellow of a blackbird--a sad glutton, he would clear the board in two
minutes,--used to tap his yellow bill against the window for more. How
we loved the fearless confidence of that fine, frank-hearted creature!
And surely he loved us. I wonder the practice is not more general. 'May!
May! naughty May!' She has frightened away the kingfisher; and now, in
her coaxing penitence, she is covering me with snow. 'Come, pretty May!
it is time to go home.'

Thaw.

January 28