124 STORIES ABOUT BIRDS. 



But the jackdaw is more brisk and lively than the rook, and has not his 

 solemn airs. And he makes his nest in a more sheltered position, and loves 

 to niche it into the old church tower or the belfry. And he will place it 

 among the giant masses of Stonehenge, in some snug corner, or even on 

 a high cliff. 



He has no idea of leaving his house open, as the rook does, to all 

 weathers, and certainly it is much more snug. It is made of sticks for the 

 foundation, after the fashion of the rook. And sometimes, when the jackdaw 

 builds in a chimney, he will bring so many sticks as quite to stop it up. 



You would think he would object to the smoke, but he does not seem to 

 mind it, or care about the fire below in the grate. As for the lining of his 

 nest, he makes it of all the soft materials he can find, or pilfer, for it does not 

 matter to him which. Of course, wool is found there, but mixed with it are 

 many odd things he has picked up as he goes prying about. Pieces of 

 worsted, or bits of lace or of silk, even caps and frills, find their way to the 

 jackdaw's nest, and make a soft bed for the little jackdaws to lie upon. And 

 a merrier or more mischievous family you could not find anywhere. 



We can give you a specimen of how the jackdaw conducts himself when 

 he wants materials for his nest, for he is extremely sharp and clever. 



There is a botanic garden at Cambridge, where all kinds of valuable 

 plants are reared, and a wooden label is stuck in the ground near each plant. 

 The colleges and churches in the town yield ample accommodation for 

 numbers of jackdaws, and their nests are perched aloft in every nook and 

 cranny. But every year new nests have, of course, to be built, and old ones 

 repaired. Many of the jackdaws could look down into the gardens from their 

 steeples and belfries, and they spied out the wooden labels. It seemed to 

 occur to them that they need not be at the trouble of fetching twigs, when 

 these little pieces of wood were close at hand. Down they came and helped 

 themselves without any stint. Of course, the gardeners found it extremely 

 inconvenient to have the labels pulled up, which the jackdaws persisted in 

 doing every year, and using for the foundation of their nests. Eighteen 

 dozen labels were taken out of one chimney only, and brought back to 

 their owners. 



We could tell you many more anecdotes of this very amusing bird. 



A jackdaw once chose to make its nest on the step of a stone staircase 

 in a church. The steps were so twisted, that the birds could not make a firm 



