44, ROOK. 
Rooks build their nests for the most part in the vicinity 
of old mansions or other buildings; chiefly, as I imagine, on 
account of ancient and full-grown trees being the accompani- 
ments of these; but they by no means make exclusive choice 
of such situations; I have seen their nests in perfectly isolated 
places, and they have been known, in several instances, to 
build on trees of low growth; as for example on young oaks, 
only ten or twelve feet high, in the grounds of the Duke of 
Buccleuch, at Dalkeith Palace, although large trees were all 
around them. They have occasionally been known to domicile 
even in the midst of cities, and that not only on trees, but 
in other and the most unlikely places. Three pairs built on 
some low poplars, in a central part of the town of Manchester, 
and returned to them the following year: another pair on the 
crown which surmounts the vane of St. Olave’s church, London; 
and another between the wings of the dragon on Bow church, 
and there they remained, clearly ‘within the sound of Bow 
bells,’ till the spire required to be repaired; others in the 
gardens of noblemen in Curzon Street, and others in those 
of Gray’s Inn, as I am informed by W. F. Wratislaw Bird, 
Esq., who says of them, ‘We have a colony of Rooks in 
Gray’s Inn gardens, which are so tame, that they come regu- 
larly to the trees in front of my chambers, and those of other 
inhabitants who encourage them, to be fed. In winter some- 
times they are so eager for food, that they scramble for it 
on the ground the moment it is thrown down, lke poultry. 
It is a curious and pleasing sight to see twenty or thirty 
birds, usually so wild and wary, struggling and tumbling over 
one another under your window, for pieces of bread, which 
they sometimes catch before it reaches the ground: they soon 
make away with half a loaf. A magnificent plane tree, said 
to have been planted by Addison, and named after him, is a 
favourite nesting-place for them. In summer, we have not 
above eight or nine couples, but in winter the number is 
doubled: they do not, however, appear to increase; the surplus 
population emigrate probably to Kensington Gardens; they 
may be seen there, and in the Parks, almost as familiar as 
Sparrows. The well-known nest in the tree in Cheapside, 
has been inhabited many times since 1836, when Mr. Yarrell 
says 1t was deserted; and two years ago, there were two nests, 
each tenanted by its pair of owners, who might be seen feeding 
their young in cawing pride, by all the busy passers in that 
most crowded of thoroughfares.’ 
