MY NEIGHBOUR’S BIRD STORIES 79 
My neighbour had one more bird story, the best 
of all to tell, and this about rooks, the only wild 
birds he had ever observed with the object of 
finding out something about their habits. There 
was a small rookery in some elm trees growing at 
the bottom of the garden of the house he then 
lived in, and the way the birds went on during 
nest-building time moved his curiosity to such a 
degree that one Sunday morning he resolved to 
give the whole day to a careful inquiry into the 
domestic affairs of these black neighbours. No 
doubt, he thought, they were subject to a law or 
custom which enabled them to exist in a com- 
munity, living and rearing their young in nests 
placed close together. Nevertheless it was evident 
that it was not an ideal society, and that the noise 
was not due merely to animal spirits, as in the 
case of a lot of boys out of school; there was a 
great deal of scolding and quarrelling, and from 
time to time a mighty hubbub, as if the entire 
colony had suddenly been seized with an angry 
excitement. What occasioned these outbursts? It 
was just to try to find this out that he planted 
himself in a chair near the trees on that Sunday 
morning. The nearest tree contained one nest only, 
a new one not yet finished, and eventually he 
thought it best to concentrate his attention on this 
point, and watch the movements of the one pair 
of birds. He had quickly found that it only worried 
and confused him to keep a watch on the move- 
ments and actions of several birds and their nests. 
