Then he began to feel that passion of deep delight which is born of adventure and curiosity.

He quite forgot his top: indeed, there was no chance of finding it.

He began to wade about, and got deeper and deeper in.

Sometimes quite over-canopied, he burrowed his way half smothered with flowers; sometimes emerging, he cast back a stealthy glance to the gallery.
At last he had passed across the lawn, arrived almost at the very end of the garden, and down among the broken trellis-work of the arbour three nests of the yellow-hammer were visible at the same time.

He did not know which to lay hands on first.