burdocks conceal the flints yet further, so that the track has the
appearance of a green drive.

The slender birch and ash poles are hung with woodbine and wild hops,
both growing in profusion. A cream-coloured wall of woodbine in flower
extends in one spot, in another festoons of hops hang gracefully, and so
thick as to hide everything beyond them. There is scarce a stole without
its woodbine or hops; many of the poles, though larger than the arm, are
scored with spiral grooves left by the bines. Under these bushes of
woodbine the nightingales when they first arrive in spring are fond of
searching for food, and dart on a grub with a low satisfied "kurr."

The place is so favourite a resort with these birds that it might well
be called Nightingale Copse. Four or five may be heard singing at once
on a warm May morning, and at least two may often be seen as well as
heard at the same time. They sometimes sing from the trees, as well as
from the bushes; one was singing one morning on an elm branch which
projected over the road, and under which the van drivers jogged
indifferently along. Sometimes they sing from the dark foliage of the
Scotch firs.

As the summer wanes they haunt the hawthorn hedge by the roadside,
leaving the interior of the copse, and may often be seen on the dry and
dusty sward. When chiffchaff and willow-wren first come they remain in
the treetops, but in the summer descend into the lower bushes, and, like
the nightingales, come out upon the sward by the wayside. Nightingale
Copse is also a great favourite with cuckoos. There are a few oaks in
it, and in the meadows in the rear many detached hawthorn bushes, and
two or three small groups of trees, chestnuts, lime, and elm. From the
hawthorns to the elms, and from the elms to the oaks, the cuckoos