there, or near; he was there all through the terrible winter, all the
summer, and he is there now.

There are a few inches, a narrow strip of sand, beside the streamlet
under this pole. Whenever a wagtail dares to come to this sand the robin
immediately appears and drives him away. He will bear no intrusion. A
pair of butcher-birds built very near this spot one spring, but
afterwards appeared to remove to a place where there is more furze, but
beside the same hedge. The determination and fierce resolution of the
shrike, or butcherbird, despite his small size, is most marked. One day
a shrike darted down from a hedge just before me, not a yard in front,
and dashed a dandelion to the ground.

His claws clasped the stalk, and the flower was crushed in a moment; he
came with such force as to partly lose his balance. His prey was
probably a humble-bee which had settled on the dandelion. The shrike's
head resembles that of the eagle in miniature. From his favourite branch
he surveys the grass, and in an instant pounces on his victim.

There is a quiet lane leading out of one of the roads which have been
mentioned down into a wooded hollow, where there are two ponds, one on
each side of the lane. Standing here one morning in the early summer,
suddenly a kingfisher came shooting straight towards me, and swerving a
little passed within three yards; his blue wings, his ruddy front, the
white streak beside his neck, and long bill were visible for a moment;
then he was away, straight over the meadows, till he cleared a distant
hedge and disappeared. He was probably on his way to visit his nest, for
though living by the streams kingfishers often have their nest a
considerable way from water.

Two years had gone by since I saw one here before, perched then on the
trunk of a willow which overhangs one of the ponds. After that came the
severe winters, and it seemed as if the kingfishers were killed off, for
they are often destroyed by frost, so that the bird came unexpectedly
from the shadow of the trees, across the lane, and out into the sunshine
over the field. It was a great pleasure to see a kingfisher again.

This hollow is the very place of singing birds in June. Up in the oaks
blackbirds whistle--you do not often see them, for they seek the leafy
top branches, but once now and then while fluttering across to another
perch. The blackbird's whistle is very human, like some one playing the
flute; an uncertain player now drawin