The crow that the boy was watching was flying in the direction of the Crow Pound, and when it came near it alighted on the top of the wall quite close to the lad.
The crow was lean to look at, and scanty of feathers, and such a sorry-looking bird that Jim broke off a piece of his pasty and threw to him, which he ate as if he were starving.
‘One would think you were one of the pilfering crows of St. Neot’s time,’ said Jim, tossing him another piece of his pasty; and to his surprise, the bird answered back:
‘I am!’
‘Are you?’ cried Jim, staring hard at the crow. ‘Well, you look ancient enough to be one of those birds, though I have always understood that our patron Saint lived ever so long ago, when Alfred the Great was a little chap like me. But p’r’aps crows tell lies as well as pilfer.’
‘If I am not one of the identical crows St. Neot was unkind enough to put into this pound,’ croaked the big black bird, eyeing Jim and his pasty with his bright little eye, ‘I am a descendant of theirs in the direct line. I truly am,’ as the lad stared as if he did not believe the assertion. ‘Those poor impounded crows learnt the language of men during the long hours of their imprisonment, listening to all the little Saint and his people said about them outside this pound, and they passed on their dearly-bought knowledge to their children through long generations.’
‘Then you are quite “high learnt,” as the old Granfer men say,’ cried Jim, gazing up at the bird in open-eyed amazement.
‘I confess I am,’ returned the crow with due modesty, ‘especially in the old Cornish tongue, in which I can swear to any extent. I am not going to use bad language now,’ as Jim took up a stone to throw at him. ‘You would not understand it if I did. I am also “high learnt” in the needs of the body, and I shall be ever so grateful for a bit more of your pasty. It isn’t nice to have an aching void inside one’s little feather stumjacket.’
‘I suppose it can’t be,’ said the lad, dropping the stone and breaking off a large piece of his pasty to toss to the bird.
He was a feeling-hearted little fellow, and the crow’s quaint appeal touched him, and the sorry-looking bird, with his bedraggled tail, had most of his pasty.