26o BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE 



Early in May the winter congregation breaks 

 up, the cliff-breeders going back to the rocks and 

 the village birds to their chimneys, where they 

 presently set about relining their old nests. There 

 are plenty of places for all, since there are chimneys 

 in almost every cottage where fires are never lighted, 

 and as ventilation is not wanted in bedrooms the 

 birds are allowed to bring in more materials each 

 year, until the whole flue is filled up. Year by year 

 the materials brought in sink lower and lower until 

 they rest on the closed iron register and change in 

 time to a solid brown mould. Thus, however long- 

 lived a daw may be — and there are probably more 

 centenarians among the daws than among the human 

 inhabitants of the villages — ^it is a rare thing for one 

 to be disturbed in his tenancy. 



In the cottage opposite the one I was staying 

 in, its owner, an old woman who had lived in it 

 all her hfe, had recently died, aged eighty-seven. 

 She was very feeble at the last, and one cold day 

 when she could not leave her bed, the extraordinary 

 idea occurred to some one of her people that it 

 might be a good thing to light a fire in her room. 

 The fireplace was examined and was found to have 

 no flue, or that the flue had been filled with earth 

 or cement. The village builder was called in, and 

 with the aid of a man on the roof and poles and 

 various implements he succeeded in extracting two 



