Chapter 12

THE YELLOWHAMMER, OR YELLOW BUNTING.(Emberiza citrinella.)

Thisbird is somewhat larger than the sparrow. Its head is of a greenish yellow, spotted with brown; the throat and belly are yellow; the breast and sides, under the wings, mingled with red. These birds build their nests on the ground, near some bush, where the female lays five or six eggs. The Yellowhammer may be sometimes seen perched on the finger of some poor man or woman in the streets of London, in a state of complete tameness; but this is the transitory effect of intoxication, and soon after the bird is bought and brought home, it dies, overcome by the power of the laudanum that has been given it.

This bird feeds on seeds and various sorts of insects,and is common in every lane, on every hedge, throughout the country, flitting before the traveller, and about the bushes. Happily for him, we have not yet acquired the taste of the natives of Italy, where the Yellowhammer falls a daily victim to the delicacy of the table, and where its flesh is esteemed very delicious eating. There he is often fattened, for the purpose of gratifying the palate of epicures.

The Ortolan, (Emberiza hortulana,) which is another species of the same genus, is common in the central and southern provinces of Europe, where it is thought exquisitely flavoured as an article of food. When first taken it is frequently very lean, but if supplied with abundance of food, it is said to be so greedy, that it will eat till it dies of repletion.

THE WHEATEAR, AND WHIN CHAT.(Saxicola ænantheandS. rubetra.)

The Wheatearis one of our earliest visitants, and may be found in every part of Britain. In the North, it generally frequents heaps of stones, ruins, or the dry stonewalls of burial-grounds, and though it is a very handsome bird, and in the early season sings sweetly, its haunts have obtained it a bad name. The common alarm-note resembles the sound made in breaking stones with a hammer, and as it utters that note from the top of the heap which haply covers the bones of one who perished by the storm, or his own hand, popular fancy has not unnaturally associated the Wheatear with the superstition that belongs to the place of graves. Beneath that heap of stones, or in some neighbouring fallow, its nest may be discovered, formed of moss and dried grass, lined with hair, feathers, or wool, and containing five or six eggs of a delicate bluish white. These birds congregate on the southern downs about the middle of July; they are then caught in vast numbers, in horse-hair nooses, which are set between two pieces of turf turned against each other.

The Whin Chatis a beautiful bird, compact in form, with a rich and elegant plumage. Its song, which is peculiarly soft and sweet, may be heard in spring on the bushy margins and gorse of extensive heaths. Its nest, constructed in thick tufts of grass and under bushes, is most carefully concealed. It is usually approached by a labyrinth to which the rising of the bird affords no clue, and it may long be sought in vain, though perhaps not more than a yard distant all the time. The eggs are bluish green, without any spots, and are never more than six in number.

The following lines, addressed to the English Ortolan, or Wheatear, by Mrs. Charlotte Smith, allude to the foolish timidity of that bird:

“To take you, shepherd boys prepareThe hollow turf, the wiry snare,Of those weak terrors well aware,That bid you vainly dreadThe shadows floating over downs,Or murmuring gale, that round the stonesOf some old beacon, as it moans,Scarce moves a thistle’s head.And if a cloud obscure the sun,With faint and fluttering heart you runInto the pitfall you should shun,And only leave when dead.”

THE SPARROW. (Passer domesticus.)

Thisbird is, next to the robin redbreast, the boldest of the small feathered tribe which frequent our barns and houses: he is a courageous little creature, and fights undauntedly against birds ten times bigger than himself. Sparrows are accused of destroying a great quantity of corn, and in several counties the landlord or farmer puts a price on a Sparrow’s head; but the farmer is the person most injured by the plan, as the good Sparrows, in ridding land of caterpillars, more than compensate for the loss of grain they destroy. Mr. Bradley, in his Treatise on Husbandry and Gardening, shows, by a calculation, that a pair of Sparrows, during the time they have their young ones to feed, destroy on an average, every week, three thousand three hundred and sixty caterpillars.

This bird is easily tamed, and will hop about the house, and on the table with great familiarity. It will feed on anything, and is particularly fond of meat cut into small pieces. The song of the Sparrow, if we canso call its chirping, is far from agreeable: this arises, however, not from want of powers, but from its attending solely to the note of the parent bird. A Sparrow, when fledged, was taken from the nest and educated under a linnet: it also heard by accident a goldfinch; and its song was in consequence a mixture of the two. The male is particularly distinguished by a jet-black spot under the bill upon a whitish ground. Sparrows are found nearly in every country of the world.

THE LINNET, (Fringilla linotaorLinota cannabina.)

Isabout the size of the goldfinch; and compensates, by an extremely melodious voice, the want of variety in its plumage, which, except in the red-breasted species, is nearly all of one colour. Its musical talents are, like those of many other birds, repaid with captivity; for it is kept in cages on account of its singing.

The Redpole (Fringilla linaria) is a small species of Linnet, little more than four inches in length, distinguished by a deep blood-red spot on the crown of his head. He visits Britain in the autumn and stays with us during the winter, his favourite summer residence being far away in the north. Redpoles are taken in great numbers by the bird-catchers in the autumn. Their only song is a twittering note, but they are often attached by a brace and chain to an open cage and trained to draw their water in a bucket.

The Green Linnet is rather larger than the house sparrow. Its head and back are of a yellowish-green, theedges of the feathers grayish; the rump and breast more yellow. The plumage of the female is much less vivid, inclining to brown. Its song is trifling, but in confinement it becomes tame and docile, and will catch the notes of other birds.

THE CANARY-BIRD. (Fringilla, orCarduelis canaria.)

Ashis name imports, this bird is a native of the Canary Islands; where, in his wild state, he has a dusky gray plumage, and a much stronger voice than when in a cage. In our northern countries his feathers undergo a great alteration; and the bird often becomes entirely white or yellow. Of this bird, Buffon says, “that if the nightingale is the chantress of the woods, the Canary is the musician of the chamber; the first owes all to nature, the second something to art. With less strength of organ, less compass of voice, and less variety of note, the Canary has a better ear, greater facility of imitation, and a more retentive memory; and as the difference of genius, especially among the lower animals, depends in a great measure on the perfection of their senses, the Canary, whose organ of hearing is more susceptible of receiving and retaining foreign impressions, becomes more social, tame, and familiar; is capable of gratitude and even attachment; its caresses are endearing, its little humours innocent, and its anger neither hurts nor offends. Its education is easy; we rear it with pleasure, because we are able to instruct it. It leaves the melody of its own natural note, to listen to the melody of our voices andinstruments. It accompanies us, and repays the pleasure it receives with interest, while the nightingale, more proud of his talent, seems desirous of preserving it in all its purity, at least it appears to attach very little value to ours, and it is with great difficulty that it can be taught any of our airs. It despises them, and never fails to return to its own wild wood notes. Its pipe is a masterpiece of nature, which human art can neither alter nor improve; while that of the Canary is a model of more pliant materials, which we can mould at pleasure; and therefore it contributes in a much greater degree to the pleasures of society. It sings at all seasons, cheers us in the dullest weather, and adds to our happiness, by amusing the young and delighting the recluse, charming the tediousness of the cloister, and gladdening the soul of the innocent and captive.” It breeds generally twice a year when domesticated; and it sometimes happens that the female lays her eggs for the second time before the first brood is fledged. The male then good-naturedly takes her place on the eggs while she feeds the young ones, and feeds them in his turn, when she sits in the nest. They are very easily tamed, when brought up with attention and kindness, and take their food out of the hand, often perching on the shoulder of their mistress, and feeding out of her mouth. The Canary-bird is sometimes, and with success, matched with the linnet or the goldfinch; and the produce is a beautiful bird, partaking of the talents and plumage of both.

Canary-birds live twelve or thirteen years in our climate, and sing well to the end of their life.

The following curious anecdote of one of these birds is related by Dr. Darwin: “On observing a Canary-bird at the house of a gentleman near Tutbury, in Derbyshire, I was told it always fainted away when its cage was cleaned; and I desired to see the experiment. The cage being taken from the ceiling, and the bottom drawn out, the bird began to tremble, and turned quite white about the root of the bill: he then opened his mouth, as if for breath, and respired quick; stood up straighter on his perch, hung his wings, spread his tail, closed his eyes,and appeared quite stiff for half-an-hour; till at length, with much trembling and deep respirations, he came gradually to himself.”

Some years ago, a Frenchman exhibited in London twenty-four Canary-birds, many of which he said were from eighteen to twenty-five years of age. Some of these balanced themselves, head downward, on their shoulders, having their legs and tail in the air. One of them taking a slender stick in its claws, passed its head between its legs, and suffered itself to be turned round, as if in the act of being roasted. Another balanced itself, and was swung backward and forward on a kind of a slack rope. A third was dressed in military uniform, having a cap on its head, wearing a sword and pouch, and carrying a firelock in one claw: after some time sitting upright, this bird, at the word of command, freed itself from its dress, and flew away to the cage. A fourth suffered itself to be shot at, and falling down as if dead, was put into a little wheelbarrow, and wheeled away by one of its comrades!

THE CHAFFINCH. (Fringilla cœlebs.)

The Chaffinchis of the same dimensions as the sparrow,but more lightly and elegantly formed. Its nest, which is of the most beautiful and elaborate construction, is composed of mosses and lichens, interwoven and lined with wool, hair, and feathers. “Four or five eggs,” says Mr. Waterton, “are the usual number which the Chaffinch’s nest contains, and sometimes only three. The thorn, and most of the evergreen shrubs, the sprouts on the boles of forest trees, the woodbine, the whin, the wild rose, and occasionally the bramble, are this bird’s favourite places for nidification. Like all its congeners, it never covers its eggs on retiring from the nest, for its young are hatched blind. There is something peculiarly pleasing to me in the song of this bird. Perhaps association of ideas may add a trifle to the value of its melody; for when I hear the first note of the Chaffinch, I know that winter is on the eve of its departure, and that sunshine and fine weather are not far off. The Chaffinch never sings when on the wing; but it warbles incessantly on the trees, and on the hedgerows, from the early part of February to the second week in July; and then (if the bird be in a state of freedom) its song entirely ceases.”

THE BULLFINCH. (Loxia pyrrhula.)

Thisis a very docile bird, and will nearly imitate the sound of a pipe, or the whistle of man, with its voice, the mellowness of which is really charming. It is, by bird-fanciers, considered to excel all other small birds, except the linnet, in the softness of its tones, and in the variety of its notes. In captivity, its melody seems to be as great a solace to itself, as it is a pleasure to its master. By day, and even when the evening has called for the artificial light of candles, the Bullfinch pursues his melodious exertions, and if there be any other birds in the apartment, awakes them gently to the pleasing task of singing in concert with him. His notes are upon one of the lowest keys of the gamut of birds.

The plumage of the Bullfinch is beautiful, though simple and uniform, consisting only of three or four colours. In the male, a lovely scarlet or crimson colour adorns the breast, throat, and jaws, as far as the eyes; the crown of the head is black; the rump and tail are white; the neck and back grey, or lead-coloured. The name of this bird originates from its head and neck being, like those of the bull, very large in proportion to the body. The female does not share with the male the brightness of colours in the plumage. Bullfinches build their nests in gardens and orchards, and particularly in places that abound in fruit-trees, as they are passionately fond of fruit, which they often destroy before it is ripe.

THE GOLDFINCH.(Fringilla carduelis, orCarduelis elegans.)

Thisbird is also called the Thistlefinch, from his fondness for the seeds of that plant. He is very beautiful, his plumage being elegantly diversified, his form small, but pleasing, and his voice not loud, but sweet. He is easily tamed, and often exhibited as a captive, with a chain round his body, drawing up with trouble, but yet with amazing dexterity, two small buckets, alternately, one containing his meat, the other his drink. If he is old when caught, the Goldfinch, after a few weeks, if well attended to, and gently treated, becomes as familiar as if he had been brought up by the hand of his keeper. Some have been taught to fire a small piece of artillery, and go through the drilling exercise, to the great astonishment of the spectators; but the cruel and severe treatment that animals undergo, when taught performances altogether contrary to their nature, should prevent us from encouraging such exhibitions.

This bird, as if conscious of the beauty of his plumage, likes to view himself in a glass, which is sometimes fixed for this purpose in the back of the cage. The art with which it composes and builds its nest is really worthy of admiration; it is generally interwoven with moss, small twigs, horsehair, and other pliant materials; the inside stuffed most carefully with fine down, and tufts of cotton grass. There the female deposits five or six eggs,which are whitish, marked at their upper end with purple dots.

“The Goldfinch weaves, with willow down inlaid,And cannach tufts, his wonderful abode;And oft suspended at the limber endOf plane-tree spray, among the broad-leaved shoots,The tiny hammock swings to every gale.Sometimes in closest thickets ’tis concealed;Sometimes in hedge luxuriant, where the brier,The bramble, and the plum-tree branchWarp through the thorn, surmounted by the flowersOf climbing vetch, and honeysuckle wild.”Grahame.

The following lines were written by Cowper on a Goldfinch starved to death in his cage. The Goldfinch speaks:—

“Time was when I was free as air,The thistle’s downy seed my fare,My drink the morning dew;I perched at will on every spray,My form genteel, my plumage gay,My strains for ever new.“But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,And form genteel were all in vain,And of a transient date;For caught and caged, and starved to death,In dying sighs my little breathSoon passed the wiry grate.“Thanks, gentle author of my woes,Thanks for this most effectual closeAnd cure of every ill.Never your cruelty repress!For I, if you had shown me less,Had been your prisoner still.”

“Time was when I was free as air,The thistle’s downy seed my fare,My drink the morning dew;I perched at will on every spray,My form genteel, my plumage gay,My strains for ever new.

“But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,And form genteel were all in vain,And of a transient date;For caught and caged, and starved to death,In dying sighs my little breathSoon passed the wiry grate.

“Thanks, gentle author of my woes,Thanks for this most effectual closeAnd cure of every ill.Never your cruelty repress!For I, if you had shown me less,Had been your prisoner still.”

THE CROSSBILL. (Loxia curvirostra.)

The Crossbillis a native of the vast pine forests of northern Europe, and is by no means abundant in England. The bill of this singular bird is of considerable length, and the mandibles towards the point are very sharp and strong, curved in opposite directions, so that when closed the points cross each other, from which the bird derives his name. This curious organization enables them to obtain their food, which chiefly consists of the seeds of the cones of the fir, with the greatest facility. These seeds, for a considerable time after they have ripened, are so firmly enclosed within their ligneous scales, that the bill of no ordinary bird could reach them. Fixing itself across the cone, the Crossbill brings the mandibles of its beak immediately over each other, and insinuates them between the scales, then forcing them laterally, the scales open. The mandibles are again brought in contact, between the scales, and the bird then picks out the seed with their tips. It is very interesting to find that a structure so anomalous as that of the bill of the Crossbill is really beneficial to the creature, and not, as was formerly rather flippantly asserted, a defect or error of nature.

THE STARE, OR STARLING, (Sturnus vulgaris,)

Isabout the size and shape of a blackbird; the tips of the feathers on the neck and back are yellow; the feathers under the tail of an ash-colour; the other parts of the plumage are black, with a purple or deep blue gloss, changing as it is variously exposed to the light. In the hen, the tips of the feathers on the breast and belly, to the very throat, are white; which constitutes a material point in the choice of the bird, as the female is no singer. She lays four or five eggs, lightly tinctured with a greenish cast of blue. Starlings build in hollow trees and clefts of rocks and walls, are very easily tamed, and can add to their natural notes any words or modulations which they are taught.

In the winter season Starlings collect in vast flocks, and may be known at a great distance by their whirling mode of flight. The evening is the time when they assemble in the greatest numbers, and betake themselves to fens and marshes. Sterne has immortalized the Starling in his “Sentimental Journey:” “The bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and thrusting his head through the trellis, pressed his head against it, as if impatient.—‘I fear, poor creature,’ said I, ‘I can’t set thee at liberty.’—‘No,’ said the Starling, ‘I can’t get out.’ ‘Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, slavery,’ said I, ‘still thou art a bitter draught!’ ”

THE SATIN BOWER-BIRD.(Ptilonorhynchus holosericeus.)

Thissingular bird was first brought before the notice of the public by Mr. Gould, in his splendid work, the “Birds of Australia,” from which the following extracts are given by permission of its author. The most remarkable circumstance relating to this bird, is its construction of a bower-like tenement, the object of which, it should seem, is a sort of playing-ground, or hall of assembly.

“The Satin Bower-bird,” says Mr. Gould, “is not a stationary species, but appears to range from one part of a district to another, either for the purpose of varying the nature, or of obtaining a more abundant supply of food. Judging from the many specimens I dissected, it would seem that it is altogether granivorous and frugivorous; or, if not exclusively so, that insects form but a small portion of its diet. The brushes it inhabits are studded with enormous fig-trees, some of them towering to the height of two hundred feet; among the lofty branches of which the Satin Bower-bird finds, in thesmall wild fig with which the branches are loaded, an abundant supply of a favourite food: this species also commits considerable depredation on ripening corn. It appears to have particular times in the day for feeding, and when thus engaged among the low shrub-like trees, I have approached within a few feet without creating alarm; but at other times I have found this bird extremely shy, especially the old males, which not unfrequently perch on the topmost branch of the loftiest tree, whence they can survey all around, and watch the movements of the females and their young in the brush below. Besides the loud liquid call peculiar to the male, both sexes frequently utter a harsh, unpleasant, guttural note, indicative of surprise or displeasure. The old black males are exceedingly few in number, as compared with the females and young male birds in the green dress, from which, and other circumstances, I am led to believe that at least two, if not three years, elapse before they attain the rich satin-like plumage, which, when once perfectly assumed, is, I believe, never again thrown off. The extraordinary bower-like structures alluded to above, are usually placed under the shelter of the branches of some overhanging tree in the most retired part of the forest, and differ considerably in size. The base consists of an extensive and rather convex platform of stick, firmly interwoven, on the centre of which the bower itself is built: this, like the platform on which it is placed, and with which it is interwoven, is formed of sticks and twigs, but of a more slender and flexible description, the tips of the twigs being so arranged as to curve inwards and nearly meet at the top: in the interior of the bower the materials are so placed, that the forks of the twigs are always presented outwards, by which arrangement not the slightest obstruction is offered to the passage of the birds. The interest of this curious bower is much enhanced by the manner in which it is decorated at and near the entrance with the most gaily-coloured articles that can be collected, such as the blue tail-feathers of the Rose-bill and Pennantian parrots, bleached bones, the shells of snails, &c.; some of the feathers are stuck in among the twigs, while others with the bones and shells are strewed about nearthe entrances. The propensity of these birds to pick up and fly off with any attractive object, is so well known to the natives, that they always search the runs for any small missing article, as the bowl of a pipe, &c., that may have been accidentally dropped in the brush. I myself found at the entrance of one of them a small neatly-worked stone tomahawk, of an inch and a half in length, together with some slips of blue cotton rags, which the birds had doubtless picked up at a deserted encampment of the natives. For what purpose these curious bowers are made is not yet, perhaps, fully understood; they are certainly not used as a nest, but as a place of resort for many individuals of both sexes, which, when there assembled, run through and around the bower in a sportive and playful manner, and that so frequently, that it is seldom entirely deserted.”

THE RAVEN. (Corvus Corax.)

“The Raven sitsOn the raven-stone,And his black wing flitsO’er the milk-white bone;To and fro, as the night-winds blow,The carcass of the assassin swings:And there alone, on the raven-stone,The Raven flaps his dusky wings.The fetters creak—and his ebon beakCreaks to the close of the hollow sound:And this is the tune by the light of the moon,To which the witches dance their round.”Byron’s Manfred.

The Ravenis about twenty-six inches in length, and his weight about three pounds. The bill is strong, black, and hooked at the tip. The plumage of the whole body of a shining black, glossed with deep blue; the back of the lower part inclining to a dusky colour. He is of a strong and hardy disposition, and inhabits all climates of the globe. He builds his nest in trees; and the female lays five or six eggs of a palish green colour, spotted with brown. It is said that the life of this bird extends to a century; and even beyond that period, if we can believe the accounts of several naturalists on the subject. The Raven unites the voracious appetite of the crow to the dishonesty of the daw and the docility of almost every other bird. He feeds chiefly on small animals; and is said to destroy rabbits, young ducks, and chickens, and sometimes even lambs, when they happen to be dropped in a weak state. In the northern regions, he preys on carrion, in concert with the white bear, the arctic fox, and the eagle. The faculty of scent in these birds must be very acute; for in the coldest of the winter days, at Hudson’s Bay, when every kind of effluvium is almost instantaneously destroyed by the frost, buffaloes and other beasts have been killed, where not one of these birds was seen; but in a few hours scores of them have been found collected about the spot, to pick up the blood and offal. The Raven possesses many diverting and mischievous qualities; he is active, curious, sagacious, and impudent; by nature a glutton, by habit a thief, in disposition a miser, and in practice a rogue. He is fond of picking up any small piece of money, bits of glass or any thing that shines, which he carefully conceals under the eaves of roofs, or in any other inaccessible place. He is easily tamed; and, like the parrot and starling, canimitate the human voice, in articulating words. At the seat of the Marquis of Aylesbury, in Wiltshire, a tame Raven, that had been taught to speak, used to ramble about in the park, where he was commonly attended and beset with crows, rooks, and others of his inquisitive tribe. When a considerable number of these were collected round him, he would lift up his head, and with a hoarse and hollow voice shout out Holloa! This would instantly put to flight and disperse his sable brethren; while the Raven seemed to enjoy the fright he had occasioned. When domesticated, the Raven is of great service, both as a scavenger and in keeping watch, in the last of which he is more alert and vigilant than almost any other animal. The Raven was the ensign of the invading Danes, and the prejudice thereby engendered against the bird is not yet quite extinct. Of its perseverance in the act of incubation, Mr. White relates the following singular anecdote:

“In the centre of a grove near Selborne, there stood an oak, which, though on the whole shapely and tall, bulged out into a large excrescence near the middle of the stem. On this tree a pair of Ravens had fixed their residence for such a series of years, that the oak was distinguished by the title of ‘The Raven-tree.’ Many were the attempts of the neighbouring youths to get at this nest: the difficulty whetted their inclinations, and each was ambitious of surmounting the arduous task; but when they arrived at the swelling, it jutted out so in their way, and was so far beyond their grasp, that the boldest lads were deterred and acknowledged the undertaking to be too hazardous. Thus the Ravens continued to build, nest upon nest, in perfect security, till the fatal day on which the wood was to be levelled. This was in the month of February, when those birds usually sit. The saw was applied to the trunk, the wedges were inserted into the opening, the wood echoed to the heavy blows of the mallet, the tree nodded to its fall; but still the dam persisted in sitting. At last, when it gave way, the bird was flung from her nest; and though her parental affection deserved a better fate, was whipped down by the twigs, which brought her dead to the ground!”

The croaking of the Raven was formerly considered a note of ill omen:

“The Raven croaked as she sat at her meal,And the old woman knew what he said;And she grew pale at the Raven’s tale,And sickened and went to her bed.”

THE CARRION CROW. (Corvus corone.)

Thisbird is less in size than the raven. The bill is strong, thick, and straight. The general colour is black, except the extremities of the feathers, which are of a greyish tint. His delight is to feed upon carcasses and dead animals, or malefactors exposed on the gibbet. He roosts upon trees, and takes both animal and vegetable food. Crows, like rooks, are gregarious, and often fly in large companies in the fields or in the woods. On the upland moors, Crows occupy the place which rooks fill in the low country; and as the Crow has a very coarse and uncouth voice, the Lowlanders of Scotland are in the habit of saying that the Highland rooks “speak Gaelic.” They are great destroyers of partridges’ eggs, as they often pierce them with their bills, and carry them in that manner through the air to a great distance to feed their young. The female lays five or six eggs.

Mr. Montagu states that he once saw a Crow in pursuit of a pigeon, at which it made several pounces, likea hawk; but the pigeon escaped by flying in at the door of a house. He saw another strike a pigeon dead from the top of a barn. The Crow is so bold a bird that neither the kite, the buzzard, nor the raven, can approach its nest without being driven away. When it has young ones, it will even attack the peregrine falcon, and at a single pounce sometimes bring that bird to the ground.

THE ROOK. (Corvus frugilegus.)

Thecawing of these birds, on the tops of high trees near gentlemen’s houses, and in the middle of cities, is not very pleasing; yet old habits, to which we are reconciled, have as much influence upon us as if they were productive of amusement. Hence it has been seldom attempted to destroy a rookery; although the noise and other inconveniences that accompany these birds render their vicinity often troublesome. They feed entirely on corn and insects, and are little bigger than the common crows. In Suffolk, and in some parts of Norfolk, the farmers find it their interest to encourage the breed of Rooks, as the only means of freeing their grounds from the grub, which produces the cockchafer, and which in this state destroys the roots of corn and grass to such a degree, that instances have been known where the turf of pasture land might be turned up with the foot. The farmers in a northern county, a good many years ago, waged a war of extermination against the Rooks, but the very next year the crops were so completely cut up by grubs, that the same proprietors were at considerableexpense in getting Rooks back again. Young Rooks are good eating, but should be skinned before they are dressed. The colour is black, but brighter than that of the crow, which the Rook resembles in shape. The female lays the same number of eggs; and the male shares with her the trouble of fetching sticks, and interweaving them to make the nest, an operation which is attended with a great deal of fighting and disputing with the other Rooks.

New comers are often severely beaten by the old inhabitants, and are even frequently driven quite away; of this an instance occurred near Newcastle, in the year 1783. A pair of Rooks, after an unsuccessful attempt to establish themselves in a rookery at no great distance from the Exchange, were compelled to abandon the attempt, and take refuge on the spire of that building; and, though constantly interrupted by other Rooks, they built their nest on thetop of the vane, and reared their young ones, undisturbed by the noise of the populace below. The nest and its inhabitants were of course turned about by every change of the wind! They returned and built their nest every year on the same place, till 1793, soon after which year the spire was taken down. A small copperplate was engraved, of the size of a watchpaper, with a representation of the spire and the nest; and so much pleased were the inhabitants and other persons with it, that as many copies were sold as produced to the engraver a profit of ten pounds. The woodcut by Bewick, in the title-page to his Select Fable gives, a view of the old Exchange, with the Rook’s nest on the vane.

It is amusing to see Rooks coming at sunset as thick as a cloud hovering over a grove, and, after several eddies described in the air, and incessant cawings, each repairing to its own nest, and settling in a few minutes to rest, till the dawn calls them up again to their pasture in the neighbouring fields.

Dr. Darwin has remarked, that an instinctive feeling of danger from mankind is much more apparent in Rooks than in most other birds. Any one who has in the least observed them will see that they evidently distinguishthat the danger is greater when a man is armed with a gun, than when he has no weapon with him. In the spring of the year, if a person happened to walk under a rookery with a gun in his hand, the inhabitants of the trees rise on their wings, and scream to the unfledged young to shrink into their nests from the sight of the enemy. The country people observing this circumstance so uniformly to occur, assert that Rooks can smell gunpowder.

THE JACKDAW. (Corvus monedula.)

Thisbird is much less than the crow. He has a large head and long bill, in proportion to the size of his body. The colour of the plumage is black, but on some parts inclining to a bluish hue; the fore part of the head is of a deeper black. The Jackdaw feeds upon nuts, fruits, seeds, and insects; and builds in ancient castles, towers, cliffs, and all desolate and ruinous places. The female lays five or six eggs, smaller, paler, and marked with fewer spots than those of the crow.

Jackdaws are easily tamed, and may with little difficultybe taught to pronounce several words. They conceal such parts of their food as they cannot eat, and often, along with it, small pieces of money or toys, frequently occasioning, for the moment, suspicions of theft in persons who are innocent. In Switzerland there is found a variety of the Jackdaw, which has a white ring round its neck. In Norway, and other cold countries, they have been seen entirely white. In a state of nature, jackdaws and rooks frequently feed together, and the Jackdaws come to meet the rooks in the morning, and also accompany them for some distance on their retreat at night.

THE MAGPIE. (Pica caudata.)

“From bough to bough the restless Magpie roves,And chatters as he flies.”Gisborne.

Thisbird resembles the daw, except in the whiteness of the breast and wings, and the length of the tail. The black of the feathers is accompanied with a changing gloss of green and purple. It is a very loquacious creature, and can be taught to imitate the human voice as well as any of the feathered creation.

Plutarch relates a singular story of a Magpie belonging to a barber at Rome, which could imitate, to a wonderful extent, almost every noise that it heard. Some trumpets happened one day to be sounded before the shop; and for a day or two afterwards the Magpiewas quite mute, and seemed pensive and melancholy. This surprised all who knew it; and they supposed the sound of the trumpets had so stunned the bird as to deprive it at the same time of voice and hearing. This, however, was not the case; for, says the writer, the bird had been all the time occupied in profound meditation, and was studying how to imitate the sound of the trumpets; accordingly, in the first attempt, it perfectly imitated all their repetitions, stops, and changes. This new lesson, however, made it entirely forget everything that it had learned before.

The Magpie feeds on everything; worms, insects, meat, cheese, bread, milk, and all kinds of seeds, and also on small birds, when they come in its way: the young of the blackbird and of the thrush, and even a strayed chicken, often fall a prey to its rapacity. It is fond of hiding pieces of money or wearing apparel, which it carries away by stealth, and with much dexterity, to its hole. Its cunning is also remarked in the manner of making its nest, which it covers all over with hawthorn branches, the thorns sticking outward; within, it is lined with fibrous roots, wool, and long grass, and then plastered all round with mud and clay. The canopy above is composed of the sharpest thorns, woven together in such a manner as to deny all entrance except at the door, which is just large enough to permit egress and regress to the owners. In this fortress the birds bring up their brood with security, safe from all attacks, but those of the climbing schoolboy, who often finds his torn and bloody hands too dear a price for the eggs or the young ones.

There are many superstitions respecting Magpies; and it is singular that in all the southern and middle districts of England, two Magpies together are thought to betoken luck; while in Lancashire, and other northern counties, they are thought to betoken misfortune. The chattering of Magpies was formerly supposed to foretell the arrival of strangers.

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