The remainder of the evening is spent in singing and
dancing. The crushing and pressing of the nuts, for oil, take place
when the whole harvest is in.'"
"But don't walnuts come from California? Our grocer said he had
California nuts," remarked Malcolm.
"Yes; that wonderful country is beginning to supply us with English
walnuts."
"Are you going to tell us a story, Miss Harson?" asked Edith, hopefully.
"I have no story, dear," was the reply, "but there is something here
which you may like about birds stealing the nuts."
Of course they would like this; for if there was to be no story, birds
and stealing promised to furnish a good substitute.
"'Birds are as fond of walnuts as we are,'" read Miss Harson, "'and rob
the trees without any mercy. Not only the little titmouse, but the grave
and solemn rook'--a kind of crow, you remember--'is not above paying a
visit to the walnut tree and stealing all he can find. There is a walnut
tree growing in a garden the owner of which may be said to have planted
it for the benefit of the rooks. Not that he had any such purpose, but,
as it happens, he cannot help himself. The rooks begin a series of
robberies as soon as the fruit is ripe, and carry them on with an
adroitness that would be amusing but for the result. As many as fifty
rooks come, one after the other, and each will carry off a walnut. The
old ones are the most at home in the process, and the most daring. The
bird approaches the tree and floats for a second in the air, as if
occupied in finding out which of the walnuts will be the easiest to
obtain; then, with a bold stroke, he darts at the one selected, and
rarely misses his aim.
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