58 POUCH OF THE ROOK. 
In my little peaceful valley, where the report of 
the keeper's gun is never heard, and where the 
birds are safe from the depredations of man, the 
ornithologist has free access to pursue his favourite 
study. Towards the middle of May, he can see 
here the carrion crow, the jay, the magpie, and the 
jackdaw, filling their mouths with grubs and worms, 
the weight of which forces the pliant skin under 
the bill into the shape of a little round ball, just of 
the same appearance as that which is observed in 
the rook, with this trifling difference, that the lump 
is feathered in the first, and bare of feathers in the 
last. 
While I am writing this, there may be seen here 
a wild duck hatching her eggs in a nest upon a 
sloping wooded bank; while a carrion crow is hatch- 
ing hers in a fir tree ten yards from the spot, and a 
windhover hawk is performing the same function in 
a fir tree about six yards on the other side of the 
duck. Forty yards from where the carrion crow is 
hatching, may be seen a barn owl sitting on her 
eggs in the hollow of an oak tree; and, at twenty 
yards’ distance from the windhover, another white 
or barn owl has formed her nest in the decayed 
recesses of a tremendous oak. Though all these 
families keep the peace, I do not wish it to be un- 
derstood that they are upon visiting terms. In 
another part, a long-eared owl is rearing her young 
in the last year’s nest of a carrion crow. When the 
parent bird is asleep, you can see very distinctly 
the erect feathers on the head: but the moment she 
gets a sight of you, down go the erect feathers, and 
