BIRDS IN THE RAIN i8i 



But to return to the birds. They are all making the 

 most of the downpour, ruffling their feathers so that 

 the water shall penetrate to the skin. 



But the rain is more to the birds than a very pleasant 

 form of bath. It is for them a ini-careiiie, a water 

 carnival, an hour of licence when every bird — even the 

 oldest and most staid — may throw appearances to the 

 wind, when it is " quite the thing " to look dishevelled. 



What a transformation does a shower of rain effect 

 in the myna. As a rule the bird looks as smart as a 

 lifeguardsman ; its uniform is so spick and span that 

 the veriest martinet could find no fault with it. But 

 after the rain has been falling for ten minutes the 

 myna looks as disreputable as a babbler. A shower 

 is the signal for all the birds to let themselves go and 

 have a spree. No bird then minds how untidy it is, 

 for it knows that there is none to point the finger of 

 scorn at it ; all are in the same boat, or, at any rate, 

 in the same shower of rain. So each one makes the 

 most of the period of licence. The most staid birds 

 splash about in puddles and revel in the experience 

 in much the same way as a child enjoys paddling 

 on the seashore. 



And when the rain is over, what a shaking and 

 preening of feathers there is ! What a general brushing 

 up ! The bird world seems for a time to have turned 

 itself into a toilet club. Presently, the last arcana of 

 the toilet being completed, the birds come forth 

 looking as fresh and sweet as an English meadow 

 when the sun shines upon it after a summer shower. 



Then there are all the good things which the rain 



