How did it manage to get out? The mesh of the netting over the aviary was small enough to keep siskins inside, but the great tit, as we afterwards found, was not to be kept within the wires. It turns its body sideways, puts a wing through first and then its head and then squeezes the body out--exactly the same procedure, that is, reading arm instead of wing, as the professional child-burglar's in India. If the great tit cannot get out of its prison, it commits suicide. For it thrusts itself so far through the wires or netting that it cannot move one way or the other, and is strangled. Dr. Günther elsewhere gives an instance of fearlessness which is no doubt paralleled in animal history, but certainly never excelled, and for once I must break my rule and make a quotation in honour of the bird of Rowfant. So many vaguely authenticated stories are current that one, on such authority, is very valuable. "In the year 1888 a pair of great tits began to build in a post-box which stood in the road in the village of Rowfant, Sussex, and into which letters, etc. were posted and taken out of the door daily. One of the birds was killed by a boy, and the nest was not finished. However in the succeeding year, it appears, the survivor found another mate, and the pair completed the nest, filling nearly one half the box with moss and other nesting materials. Seven eggs were laid and incubated, but one day when an unusual number of post-cards were dropped into and nearly filled the box, the birds deserted the nest, which was afterwards removed with the eggs and preserved. In 1890 the pair built a new nest of about the same size as the previous one, laid again seven eggs, and reared a brood of five young, although the letters posted were often found lying on the back of the sitting bird, which never left the nest when the door was opened to take out the letters. The birds went in and out by the slit for the letters on the side of the box." [Illustration: THE TIT OF ROWFANT] Could anything be more charming, more touching, than this? and does any bird that breathes English air deserve more respect for its delightful confidence in man, more assistance in its times of stress and want, than the great tit? But it is not a bird that many people think of when they try to remember the lovable creatures that haunt their garden. For one thing, it is so restless that it seldom remains in sight more than an instant, and, as often as not, its crisp bright call is the only sign that we have of its presence as it flits to and fro after insects among the tree-tops, dropping suddenly on to the ground after a falling caterpillar, and as suddenly skipping up branch by branch to the height it had left. Whenever heard, even in the depth of winter, it is cheery, crying out with just as brisk and hearty a voice as when the summer sun was shining. CHAPTER V THE OWL--THE MAGPIE--THE KESTREL OR WINDHOVER--HAUNTS OF THE HERON--BIRD-DESTROYERS, THE GAMEKEEPER AND "NATURALIST"