Curiously enough I missed the corncrake’s well-known call in the meadows by the river in the springtime of 1897; and not one was bagged in September by the partridge-shooters.  This is the first year they have been absent.  I always looked for their pleasing croak in May by the trout stream, and invariably shot several while partridge-shooting in former years.

The earthquake of 1895 was very severely felt in the Cotswolds.  Next to an earthquake a bad thunderstorm is the most awe inspiring of all things to mortals.  During last autumn the Cotswold district was visited by a thunderstorm of short duration, but great severity.  A gale was blowing from the south; thunder and lightning came up from the same direction, and, travelling at an immense speed, passed rapidly over our house about ten p.m.  The shocks became louder and louder; and whilst five or six of us were watching the lightning from a large window in the hall, there was a deafening report as of a dozen canons exploding simultaneously at close quarters.  At the same time a flame of blue fire of intense brilliancy seemed to fall like a meteor a few yards in front of our eyes.  At first we were sure the house had been struck, so that the first impulse was to rush out of doors; but the succeeding report being much less severe, confidence was restored.  The general conclusion was that a thunderbolt had fallen, and, missing the house by a few yards, had disappeared in the earth.  A search next morning on the lawn did not throw any light on the matter.  Probably, if there was a thunderbolt, it fell into the river; for it is well known that water is a great conductor of the electric fluid, and thunderstorms often seem to follow the course of a stream.  The summer lightning, which kept the sky in a blaze of light for two hours after the storm had passed away, was the finest I remember.

It is a pity mankind is so little addicted to being out of doors after sunset.  Some of the most beautiful drives and walks I have ever enjoyed have been those taken at night.  Driving out one evening from Cirencester, the road on either side was illuminated with the fairy lights of countless glow-worms.  It is the female insect that is usually responsible for this wonderful green signal taper; the males seldom use it.  Whereas the former is merely an apterous creeping grub, the latter is an insect provided with wings.  Flying about at night, he is guided to his mate by the light she puts forth; and it is a peculiar characteristic of the male glow-worm, that his eyes are so placed that he is unable to view any object that is not immediately beneath him.

It is early in summer that these wonderful lights are to be seen; June is the best month for observing them.  During July and August glow-worms seem to migrate to warmer quarters in sheltered banks and holes, nor is their light visible to the eye after June is out, save on very warm evenings, and then only in a lesser degree.