Nest of the Jackdaw 65 



ringers that such and such a chime seemed rung pleasantly, 

 be certain that you will hear it night after night coming 

 with a throbbing joyfulness through the starlit air — every 

 note of the peal rising clear and distinct at the exact 

 moment of time, as if struck by machinery, yet with a 

 quivering undertone that dwells on the ear after the wave 

 of sound has gone. Then go out and walk in the garden 

 or field, for it is a noble music ; remember, too, that it is a 

 music that has echoed from the hills hundreds and hundreds 

 of years. Rude men as they are, these bellringers grate- 

 fully respond to the least appreciation of their art. 



A few more turns about the spiral staircase, and then 

 step out on the roof. The footstep is deadened by the 

 dull-coloured lead, oxidised from exposure. The tarnished 

 weathercock above revolves so stiffly as to be heedless of 

 the light air — only facing a strong breeze. The irreverent 

 jackdaws, now wheeling round at a safe distance, build in 

 every coign of vantage, no matter how incongruous their 

 intrusion may be — on the wings of an angel, behind the 

 flowing robe of St. Peter, or yonder in the niche, grey and 

 lichen-grown, where stood the Virgin Mary before icono- 

 clastic hands dashed her image to the ground. If a gur- 

 goyle be broken or choked so that no water comes through 

 it, they will use it, but not otherwise. And they have 

 nests, too, just on the ledge in the thickness of the wall, 

 outside those belfry windows which are partially boarded 

 up. , Anywhere, in short, high tip and well sheltered, suits 

 the jackdaw. 



When nesting time is over, jackdaws seem to leave the 

 church and roost with the rooks ; they use the tower much 

 as the rooks do their hereditary group of trees at a distance 

 from the wood they sleep in at other seasons. How came 

 the jackdaw to make its nest on church-towers in the first 



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