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[Illustration: IMPERIAL PREFERENCE.]
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[Illustration: "THEY 'ALSO RUN' WHO ONLY STAND AND WAIT."]
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THE ARRIVAL OF BLACKMAN'S WARBLER.
I am become an Authority on Birds. It happened in this way.
The other day we heard the Cuckoo in Hampshire. (The next morning
the papers announced that the Cuckoo had been heard in
Devonshire--possibly a different one, but in no way superior to ours
except in the matter of its Press agent.) Well, everybody in the house
said, "Did you hear the Cuckoo?" to everybody else, until I began to
get rather tired of it; and, having told everybody several times that
I _had_ heard it, I tried to make the conversation more interesting.
So, after my tenth "Yes," I added quite casually:--
"But I haven't heard the Tufted Pipit yet. It's funny why it should be
so late this year."
"Is that the same as the Tree Pipit?" said my hostess, who seemed to
know more about birds than I had hoped.
"Oh, no," I said confidently.
"What's the difference exactly?"
"Well, one is tufted," I said, doing my best, "and the
other--er--climbs trees."
"Oh, I see."
"And of course the eggs are more speckled," I added, gradually
acquiring confidence.
"I often wish I knew more about birds," she said regretfully.
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