To the old chalk-pit, where the sun is trapped and the winds are
kept at bay, come all kinds of creatures for warmth and sanctuary.
However deserted the fields of winter seem to be--however silent and
sullen--signs of life are never wanting in the chalk-pits; they are
as inns to wayfarers who search the country for a living and lodging.
Creep silently, against the wind, to the chalk-pit's edge, and in
summer or winter, sunshine or shower, on a still day or a windy, you
will catch a glimpse of some wild creature, a visitor, or one of those
who have made their home in the pit for the sake of sustenance or
shelter.
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