26 BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE 



be spared for the sake of the sudden, brain- 

 piercing, rasping, rending scream with which he 

 startles us in our solitary forest walks. 



It is this extreme liveliness of the jay which 

 makes it more distressing to the mind to see it 

 pent in a cage than other birds of its family, 

 such as the magpie; just as it is more distressing 

 to see a skylark than a finch in prison, because 

 the lark has an irresistible impulse to rise when 

 his singing fit is on. Sing he must, in or out of 

 prison, yet there can be little joy in the per- 

 formance when the bird is incessantly teased with 

 the unsatisfied desire to mount and pour out his 

 music at heaven's gate. 



Out of the cages, jays make charming and 

 beautiful pets, and some who have kept them have 

 assured me that they are not mischievous birds. 

 The late Mark Melford one time when I visited 

 him, had two jays, handsome birds, in bright, 

 glossy plumage, always free to roam where they 

 liked, indoors or out. We were sitting talking 

 in his garden when one of the jays came flying 

 to us and perched on a wooden ledge a few feet 

 from and above our heads, and after sitting 

 quietly for a little while he suddenly made a dash 



