. Birds, beasts and fishes of the Norfolk broadland . nest of fowls feathers, upon which the milk-whiteeggs, known to every schoolboy, are placed and the younghatched, and where the young are fed on flies and mothstill they are pretty strong on the wing, when they go in abody to the Broad, and all day long from dawn to sundownyou may see them skimming just over the reed during rain orthunder-squall. In the still oppressive noontide or at dusk orearly dawn, it is always the same, there they are always hawk-ing and twittering, the old feeding the young on the wing,and consuming enormous numbers
. Birds, beasts and fishes of the Norfolk broadland . nest of fowls feathers, upon which the milk-whiteeggs, known to every schoolboy, are placed and the younghatched, and where the young are fed on flies and mothstill they are pretty strong on the wing, when they go in abody to the Broad, and all day long from dawn to sundownyou may see them skimming just over the reed during rain orthunder-squall. In the still oppressive noontide or at dusk orearly dawn, it is always the same, there they are always hawk-ing and twittering, the old feeding the young on the wing,and consuming enormous numbers of flies; for these birdsare far more numerous over the Broadlands than either theswallow or house-martin, as may be seen when they congre-gate in large flocks of thousands, sitting by the soundingsea, or lining miles of bending telegraph wire, or coveringthe reed or gladen beds preparatory to starting forth ; and asthey fly up, on the start, darkening the air, it is difficult toconceive how they do not dash against each other, so blackis the SAND-MARTINS AND BUKROWS. CHAPTER XXXII THE GREENFINCH Or greenulf, as the Broadsmen call him, is the dirtiest birdalive—he fouls his own nest, always a stupid you shall see; for this is a beautiful April day, and thebland new leaves of the hawthorn have covered the gnarledstems; for the greenfinch is wise enough not to build till thethorny skeletons are clothed with verdure, and oftener withbeautiful may, that perfect flower, that catches the eye ofmany a courting greenfinch. Let us walk under the blue sky, flecked with soft, snowycumuli, passing some geese sleeping upon a rushy marsh,the sentinel on his grassy hill calling doubtfully as we pass upthe white road towards the village, whence comes the fish-hawker calling through the green hedgerows, sweet with thevoices of the whitethroats and yellow-buntings. As we nearthe village, the cottagers, in tucked-up dresses, pop intotheir doors with mops and buckets, pee
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectbirdsen, bookyear1895
