416 BIRD LIFE AT BINGHAJVTS MELCOMBE 



people call him. He seems to have taken a lease of 

 it for life ; he claims it as all his own, and resents 

 any intrusion upon it. Watch his movements ; 

 he runs two or three yards with his little nimble 

 feet. He stops and thinks ; his long pied tail, 

 longer, in proportion, even than the magpie's, and 

 something of the same colours, shaking up and 

 down, as if it could not be still. He dashes off 

 again, taking a turn now to the right, now to the 

 left, as he catches sight of his tiny prey. Now and 

 again, he springs a foot or two into the air, to catch 

 a fly upon the wing. Then he dashes forward 

 again, as if he were in for a long race, faster than 

 you would think such slender legs could carry him. 

 But, again, he stops dead short, digging his bill into 

 the grass, as though he would bury himself in it, his 

 tail high in air, as though he would turn a complete 

 somersault and a somersault it would often be, 

 were it not for the grip that his long, slightly 

 curved hind claw has upon the turf. His nest is 

 safely hidden in the creepers of the house, or in 

 some niche or ledge of the garden walls. You are 

 anxious to discover it ; he is equally anxious to 

 conceal it. When his mouth is crammed with 

 insects, he will fly to the roof-ridge, and, perfectly 

 aware that you are watching him, will watch you 



