268 BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE 



VI 

 STORY OF A JACKDAW 



WHEN I laid my pen down after concluding Part V. 

 it pleased me to think that I had written the last 

 word, that, my task finished, I was free to go on to 

 something else* But I was not yet wholly free of 

 the jackdaws ; their yelping cries were still ringing 

 in my mental ears, and their remembered shapes were 

 still all about me in their black dress, or cassock, 

 grey hood, and malicious little grey eyes. The 

 persistent images suggested that my task was not 

 properly finished after all, that it would be better 

 to conclude with one of those anecdotes or stories 

 of the domesticated bird which I have said are so 

 common ; also that this should be a typical story, 

 which would serve to illustrate the peculiar daw 

 sentiment the affectionate interest we take in him, 

 not only in spite of his impudence and impishness 

 and naughtiness, but also to some extent because 

 of these same qualities, which find an echo in us. 

 Accordingly I set myself to recall some of the latest 

 anecdotes of this kind which I had heard, and 

 selected the one which follows, not because it was 

 more interesting as a daw story than the others, but 



