MAY 107 



it is one of the unsolved problems of ornithology where 

 they naturally breed, they will rear their young con- 

 tentedly in captivity ; whereas their near relatives, the 

 brent geese, refuse to lay a single egg if deprived of 

 freedom. Well, some years ago, a barnacle goose made 

 a nest in St. James's Park, lining it with the best down 

 from her bosom, but devil an egg did she succeed in 

 producing. She sat close, however, on the empty nest 

 for weeks, finally quitting it reluctantly about the time 

 that eggs, had there been any, should have hatched. 

 Next spring, this would-be Mother Goose built another 

 nest as fine as the first ; but into this one a sympathetic 

 keeper slipped some duck's eggs, which were hatched 

 in due time, and no more exemplary mother could be 

 seen than Madame Barnacle, as she sailed forth with 

 her little fleet of aliens. 



The crow family has undergone much vicissitude in 

 London during the past century. It is not many years 

 since Kensington Gardens was hoarsely vocal with 

 rooks, but the last pair bred there in 1892. I believe 

 there is still a small rookery in Gray's Inn, though it is 

 puzzling to understand how the birds can find their 

 way daily to feeding grounds, yearly getting more 

 remote, through the network of wires that covers 

 London so closely. Indeed it is one of the most 

 singular features in urban bird life, how few casualties 

 arise from this cause (no pun, please), especially since 

 the thick iron wires have been so largely replaced by 

 fine wires of copper or steel. 



While rooks have been disappearing from London, 

 carrion crows (which are often mistaken for rooks) are 



