The great sand-pit near the farmhouse was still vocal with innumerable broods of sand-martins, still enlivened by the constant skimming to and fro of the parent birds.

And under Kendal's sitting-room window a pair of tomtits, which the party had watched that May Sunday, were just launching their young family on the world.

One of his first walks was to that spot beyond the pond where they had made their afternoon camping-ground.

The nut-hatches had fled--fled, Kendal hoped, some time before, for the hand of the spoiler had been near their dwelling, and its fragments lay scattered on the ground.

He presently learnt to notice that he never heard the sharp sound of the bird's tapping beak among the woods without a little start of recollection.
Outside his walks, his days were spent in continuous literary effort.