IN THE NORTH OF KENT 93 
we had just left. Recollections of such scenes 
do not easily fade from the memory. They 
are thrown into violent contrast when one 
gets back to bricks and mortar, smoky 
chimneys, asphalted roads, and _ stinking, 
noisy motors. Some young starlings just 
out of the nest were here. Not yet certain of 
their wings, though frightened as we looked 
up at them sitting in the trees, they did not 
fly off, but kept up constant calls of distress 
to their parents not far away. These notes 
of fledgling starlings are characteristic. They 
are something like a scissor grinding, ‘ tchee- 
Se-ce-7e,  Olfem, repeated at ‘a. time, and 
also if very excited a quicker ‘ tchiz-z-z-ze,’ 
followed by a still sharper ‘tchit, tchit,’ 
sounds something like but yet different to 
those of the adult cock as he sits at nesting- 
time on a chimney top or bough close to his 
sitting mate (see Part I, p. 40). I must not 
omit one nest we found, that of a jay, set 
in a thick may bush—they are always built 
in woods and dense bushes. It much resem- 
bled from below a blackbird’s, but was quite 
