No window or barrier could shut out the sound, till the ears of any listener became dulled by the ceaseless murmur.

So monotonous it was, so cheerless, so disheartening, so melancholy, that all longed, but in vain, for any variety, no matter how terrible it might be.
The second morning the reports from all the districts round were more alarming than ever.

Farmers began to dread the coming of winter as they saw the dwindling of the timely fruitfulness of the earth.

And as yet it was only a warning of evil, not the evil accomplished; the ground began to look bare whenever some passing sound temporarily frightened the birds.
Edgar Caswall tortured his brain for a long time unavailingly, to think of some means of getting rid of what he, as well as his neighbours, had come to regard as a plague of birds.

At last he recalled a circumstance which promised a solution of the difficulty.