NOTES ON THE ROOK. 119 



the housekeeper's window, which looked into a small shrubbery adjoining the 

 Rookery there, and were fed with crumbs from the sill of the window; first 

 the old bird would alight from the branches of a Catalpa tree to the ground, 

 and then to the sill of the window; the young would immediately follow 

 their parents' example. On their return in autumn to the Rookery, they 

 would proceed to the Catalpa, and announce their arrival, and, I am happy 

 to say, were always received with the same good feeling as in their spring 

 visit. The instinctive sagacity shown by the Rook in avoiding the approach 

 of sportsmen, or other suspicious characters, is remarkable to a degree. They 

 can also with equal discrimination discern and attach themselves to friends. 

 The Rooks at Milton Abbey would allow a person to approach within a few 

 yards of them, when they would make a sort of jump or short flight, and 

 if a piece of bread were thrown to them, they would advance with an air 

 of dignity and pick it up. We have frequently watched them and the Jackdaw 

 picking the meat off a bone immediately under the paws of a Newfoundland 

 Dog in front of our door, without showing the slightest fear. Many interesting 

 accounts are to be found in works on Natural History, of their deserting the 

 Rookery on the departure of the owner thereof, and settling themselves in 

 trees near his new residence. Could we but dive into all the mysteries of 

 a Rookery, volumes might be written with much that man never dreamt of, 

 with all his boasted philosophy. It has been advanced that they prefer 

 elm trees for their habitations, but this is not the case, as far as our 

 observation goes. We have found them in elm, oak, beech, ash, spruce fir, 

 Scotch fir, larch, horse chestnut, Spanish chestnut, sycamore, plane, lime, and 

 even in the apple tree, but most frequently in the oak, elm, and beech. 

 They are not over particular as to the height of the tree, as is well exemplified 

 in the Rookery at Dalkeith, in which we have spent many hours watching 

 their ways and doings. Here they build in young bushy oaks, not over fifteen 

 feet high: in two trees of this height, we have counted six nests in one and 

 five in the other. 



We now come to a somewhat disputed point in their history, namely, 

 the absence of feathers on the bills of the old birds. Without troubling 

 ourselves with what has already been advanced by various naturalists, we 

 without further hesitation pronounce it to be the eflFects of old age, just as 

 an old man becomes grey, and that delving has nothing to do with it. This 

 off-handed way of dealing with a disputed subject may appear strange to some 

 of your readers, but we have on more occasions than one watched the gradual 

 and natural decrease of these feathers from birds which we have kept domesti- 

 cated, and which were never observed delving; but on referring to our notes, 

 we do not find that we have, which we much regret, made any entry 

 respecting the date or time of age that this takes place. In support of this 

 opinion, we find your respected correspondent, the Rev. W. Waldo Cooper, 

 inclines, see vol, i., page 5-3, of "The Naturalist;" as also the Rev. F. O. 

 Morris, in his invaluable "British Birds," vol. i., page 338. That the young 



