90 THE BIRDS OF SHERWOOD FOREST. 
imagined it to have been July instead of February. 
Having finished its ablutions it bounded along the 
margin of the stream, apparently feeding eagerly, as if 
the bath had sharpened its appetite. 
The ground is its favourite place, but in the winter it 
often perches on the tops of houses and outbuildings, sel- 
dom remaining there long, but flying off with an elastic 
bound and a cheerful twitter. Occasionally I have seen 
them alight on the rails of a fence, and once watched 
one feeding a young cuckoo, which was evidently its 
foster-child, both being perched on the top rail of a 
fence by the side of the stream. I never but once saw 
them perch on trees. 
In March they are in some measure gregarious, for, 
though rarely associating in more than twos and threes 
in the daytime, yet in the evening they assemble in 
flocks of forty or fifty in number on the gorse coverts on 
the forest. They arrive in pairs and small parties about 
an hour before dusk, and perch on the bushes, con- 
tinually shifting their places and uttering rather clamo- 
rously a shrill “t-wee.” Often have I stood concealed 
and watched their proceedings, and as I listened to their 
busy twitter, I could fancy that they were each of them 
detailing their personal adventures during the day. As 
darkness drew on the gossip gradually ceased, and one 
by one they dropped down amongst the furze bushes, 
where they roosted for the night. 
A bank at the bottom of a hedge I have found the 
most usual place for the nest, and frequently at a great 
distance from water. The foundation is generally 
formed of grass and roots, and lined with hair and wool, 
and rarely with feathers; cow’s hair, which is doubtless 
picked up on the pastures, is the most usual lining. 
