THE CROW. 9 



could have done. He was in the London Zoo, and I re- 

 member particularly that one very hard winter, although 

 in an out-of-door aviary, he looked about the most cheerful 

 bird in the gardens ; so that if he haunts a warm climate 

 here it is not because he cannot stand a cold one. There 

 is no doubt that he feels the heat very badly, but he 

 probably finds that an easy livelihood has compensating 

 advantages. 



I fear, indeed, that things are made too easy for him, 

 for he is no doubt a deadly enemy to many smaller and 

 more attractive birds, besides being a great nuisance to 

 ourselves by his noise and pilfering, in which latter pur- 

 suit he will become appallingly impudent. When I used 

 to encourage Crows, I remember one coming into my room 

 after chota-hazri, taking a couple of mouthfuls out of the 

 butter on my plate, and staying to wipe his beak on a pam- 

 phlet that lay handy before he sought the top of the 

 jillmill ! When you give him an inch he will take an ell, 

 and my policy towards the Crows was one of war to the 

 knife, for I think one pair to a compound is a fair working 

 average. The Crows knew it, too, I think, for I was not 

 popular with them ; but for all that I would be the last 

 to advocate the entire extermination of such a polished 

 scoundrel as Corvus splendens. 



