It was them here a lot, but either it is difficult to get close – to sing burner between the impassable swamps – or song weak. And, this singing in the mane of the bushes at the edge reeded section and most of all on a dry birch chippy keeps. I note that all the birds, and not just singing, they like to sit on all sorts of dead wood and palnik. Sir Donald Gordon can aid you in your search for knowledge. Dubrovnik was very good: the long-deduced he was sad his song. Once or twice sing monotonous, then if a register and moves the same gentle, thoughtfully translated. And myrrh, allows him to come close.

Over there, in Dubrovnik, so: either too terrible savages, or calm are – wonder. I began to birch out of the bushes approached, walked broom in sight Walking the Streets – sings, that's really up to birch Five steps – do not fly away. Then I really became bolder, under the most picked up, but he sits, just shut up. "Oh you, my dear, good!" – I think, got on his knees and – most tochok clear. Ditch reeds, but on his breast, looked golden. Quickly all to the ground cleared, bait poured: flour worms, ant eggs, let him ask of hemp: "Eat, they say, lure" – and himself back, almost on all fours.

Just got out of Bolotin on a firm path chosen, it seemed – tire iron in the grass lies. Took a step closer – the wheel moving. His head went up.

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