I was staying with the companion of my walks at a village in Southern England in a district new to us.

We arrived on a Saturday, and next morning after breakfast went out for a long walk.

Turning into the first path across the fields on leaving the village, we came eventually to an oak wood, which was like an open forest, very wild and solitary.

In half an hour's walk among the old oaks and underwood we saw no sign of human occupancy, and heard nothing but the woodland birds.

We heard, and then saw, the cuckoo for the first time that season, though it was but April the fourth.