LONDON'S LITTLE BIBDH 117 



where instead of men and women lie has puffins, 

 guillemots, and gannets for neighbours. The 

 roar of the sea or the jarring noises of human 

 traffic and industry — it is all one to the starling. 

 That is why he is a London bird. In the 

 breeding season he is to be found diffused over 

 the entire metropolis, an astonishing fact when 

 we consider that he does not, like the sparrow, 

 find his food in the roads, back gardens, and 

 small spaces near his nest, but, like the rook, 

 must go a considerable distance for it. 



Two seasons ago (1896) one pair of starlings 

 had their nest close to my house — a treeless 

 district, most desolate. When the young were 

 hatched I watched the old birds going and 

 coming, and on leaving the nest they invariably 

 flew at a good height above the chimney-pots 

 and telegraph wires, in the direction of the 

 Victoria Gate of Hyde Park. They returned 

 the same way. It is fully two miles to the park 

 in that direction. The average number of eggs 

 in a starling's nest is six; and assuming that 

 these birds had four or five young, we can 

 imagine what an enormous labour it must have 

 been to supply them with suitable insect food, 

 each little beakful of grubs involving a return 



