MY NEIGHBOUR'S BIRD STORIES 79 



My neighbour had one more bird story, the best 

 of all to tell, and this about rooks, the only wild 

 birds he had ever observed with the object of 

 finding out something about their habits. There 

 was a small rookery in some elm trees growing at 

 the bottom of the garden of the house he then 

 lived in, and the way the birds went on during 

 nest-building time moved his curiosity to such a 

 degree that one Sunday morning he resolved to 

 give the whole day to a careful inquiry into the 

 domestic affairs of these black neighbours. No 

 doubt, he thought, they were subject to a law or 

 custom which enabled them to exist in a com- 

 munity, living and rearing their young in nests 

 placed close together. Nevertheless it was evident 

 that it was not an ideal society, and that the noise 

 was not due merely to animal spirits, as in the 

 case of a lot of boys out of school; there was a 

 great deal of scolding and quarrelling, and from 

 time to time a mighty hubbub, as if the entire 

 colony had suddenly been seized with an angry 

 excitement. What occasioned these outbursts? It 

 was just to try to find this out that he planted 

 himself in a chair near the trees on that Sunday 

 morning. The nearest tree contained one nest only, 

 a new one not yet finished, and eventually he 

 thought it best to concentrate his attention on this 

 point, and watch the movements of the one pair 

 of birds. He had quickly found that it only worried 

 and confused him to keep a watch on the move- 

 ments and actions of several birds and their nests. 



