THE ROOK 53 



Now and again I notice that a few old birds in our 

 colony appear to be dissatisfied with everybody and 

 everything; and imaginary grievances, political and 

 social, often lead to a segregation scheme. This is how 

 I have accounted for my hamlet of four nests. The 

 general run of our odd, or celibate, birds is, however, 

 good in character ; they help in the building of the nests 

 and even in feeding the sitting birds. For the wedded 

 pairs April is a most trying time : if the season be a dry 

 one, or frost sets in, food is scarce. Insects and worms 

 are deep in the earth ; the farmer is engaged in sowing 

 his spring corn, oats, and barley. The rooks prefer a 

 diet of insects, worms and grubs, but these are hard to 

 get at times; the spring beans are just peeping through, 

 and the sitting hen asks for food. The cock bird 

 ventures too long in the beanfield, and as he skims over 

 the hedge with a bean or two in his pouch a shot is 

 heard; the faithful mate of the sitting bird is brought 

 down to mother earth, and the farmer feels that he has 

 one enemy the less. Personally I would not shoot a 

 bird if you gave me a sovereign for it. The old bird 

 may, and does, grieve, but the news of her loss is soon 

 at the rookery, and her food is brought to her by a new 

 mate. Thus there is a place taken in the rookery by one 

 of our odd birds, and there is a bachelor less in the com- 

 munity. I have known many a bird die about this time 

 through over-zeal a slave to love and duty. If April 

 prove seasonable and mild with showers, worms are 

 plentiful, and the farmer's gun remains in its place over 

 the kitchen chimneypiece. 



Often during the building season the rookery is dis- 

 turbed by discordant notes, accompanied by a great 

 fluttering of wings; there is a big row in the township; 



