Publisher's Synopsis
ABOUT the middle of last May, after a rough and cold period, there came a spell ofbrilliant weather, reviving in me the old spring feeling, the passion for wild nature, thedesire for the companionship of birds; and I betook myself to St. James's Park for thesake of such satisfaction as may be had from watching and feeding the fowls, wild andsemi-wild, found gathered at that favored spot.I was glad to observe a couple of those new colonists of the ornamental water, thedabchicks, and to renew my acquaintance with the familiar, long-established moorhens.One of them was engaged in building its nest in an elm-tree grow-2 BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGEing at the water's edge. I saw it make two journeys with large wisps of dry grass in itsbeak, running up the rough, slanting trunk to a height of sixteen to seventeen feet, anddisappearing within the "brushwood sheaf" that springs from the bole at that distancefrom the roots. The wood-pigeons were much more numerous, also more eager to befed. They seemed to understand very quickly that my bread and grain was for them andnot the sparrows; but although they stationed themselves close to me, the little robberswe were jointly trying to outwit managed to get some pieces of bread by flying up andcatching them before they touched the sward. This little comedy over, I visited thewater-fowl, ducks of many kinds, sheldrakes, geese from many lands, swans black, andswans white. To see birds in prison during the spring mood of which I have spoken isnot only no satisfaction but a positive pain; here--albeit without that large liberty thatnature gives, they are free in a measure; and swimming and diving or dozing in thesunshine, with the blue sky above them, they are perhaps unconscious of any restraint.Walking along the margin I noticed three children some yards ahead
