"The mating song of the male reed-warbler," interrupted Brown
ecstatically. "Now, whatever happens, don't let them be disturbed. Don't
even try to find the nest, or you may alarm them. Leave it all to me. I
shan't have a free morning till Saturday, but there's no hurry. I'll
bring my camera round then, and when I've located the spot they're
building in I'll rig up a hiding-place and take some photos. Don't let
anybody go near them; the great thing is to make them feel quite at
home." He was gone before I could explain.
It is rather an awkward situation, because, when Brown comes on Saturday
morning, I am afraid that if he secures any really successful photos
they will prove a disappointment to him. They will represent my
gardener, Williams, trundling a barrow, the wheel of which is badly in
need of oil.
* * * * *
Tercentenarians.
"It is one of the most marvellous of doubles that William
Shakespeare and Miguel de Cervantes died on the very same day of
the same year--on the 23rd day of April, 1916."
_The Leader (B.E. Africa)._
* * * * *