The pleasing quality of the sound as well as the
variety in it could be well noted here where the birds were
many, scattered about on ledges and projections high above the
earth, and when bird after bird uttered its plaint, each
repeating his note half a dozen to a dozen times, one in slow
measured time, and deep-voiced like the rock-dove, but more
musical; another rapidly, with shorter, impetuous notes in a
higher key, as if carried away by excitement. There were not
two birds that cooed in precisely the same way, and the same
bird would often vary its manner of cooing.
It was best to hear them during the afternoon service in the
cathedral, when the singing of the choir and throbbing and
pealing of the organ which filled the vast interior was heard
outside, subdued by the walls through which it passed, and was
like a beautiful mist or atmosphere of sound pervading and
enveloping the great building; and when the plaining of the
doves, owing to the rhythmic flow of the notes and their human
characters, seemed to harmonize with and be a part of that
sacred music.
Chapter Twelve: Whitesheet Hill
On Easter Saturday the roadsides and copses by the little
river Nadder were full of children gathering primroses; they
might have filled a thousand baskets without the flowers being
missed, so abundant were they in that place. Cold though it
was the whole air was laden with the delicious fragrance.
Pages:
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155