BIRDS IN A VILLAGE. 
19 
as a very fine sight, when an old bird, who looked 
larger and blacker and greyer-faced than the 
others, and might have been the father and leader 
of them all, got up on a low post and with wide- 
open beak poured forth a long series of most 
impressive caws. One always wonders at the 
meaning of such displays. Is the old bird address- 
ing the others in the rook language on some matter 
of great moment; or is he only expressing some 
feeling in the only language he has — those long, 
hoarse, uninflected sounds ; and if so, what feeling ? 
A very common one, I fancy. The rooks appeared 
happy and prosperous, feeding in the meadow grass 
in that June weather, with the hot sun shining 
on their glossy coats. Their days of want were 
long past and forgotten ; the anxious breeding 
period was over ; the tempest in the tall trees ; 
the annual slaughter of the young birds — all past 
and forgotten. The old rook was simply express- 
ing the old truth that life was worth living. 
These rooks were usually accompanied by two or 
three or more crows — a bird of so ill-repute that 
the most out and out enthusiast for protection must 
find it hard to say a word in its favour. At any 
rate, the rooks must think, if they think at all, 
that this frequent visitor and attendant of theirs 
is more kin than kind. I have related in a former 
work that I once saw a peregrine strike down and 
