100 WHISPERS FROM FAIRYLAND. [1I.

 

annoyance to us rooks at this time; and, for the
matter of that, they are so still. They have always
had a habit of flocking together in the winter time,
and descending in large flights upon the turnip-fields,
or anywhere else where they imagine that food is
to be foand. Ofcourse no one objects to a wood-
pigeon getting his own living like any other fellow.
‘Live and let live’ is an excellent old adage, and I
wouldbe the last rook in the world to caw a noteagainst
another bird of a different species who was only doing
his duty to himself and his family.

But it was not only always the case (asI have found
to my cost more than once) that in severe winters, when
the quantity of food was insufficient, the proceedings
of these wood-pigeons in congregating in such large
numbers, materially clashed with rook interests, but
they were also productive of very serious consequences.
Farmers and others, who could bear with equanimity
the presence of a few rooks, were inspired with fury
at the devastations of the other birds, and were more-
over possessed with the idea (which I am bound to own
that experience is said to have justified) that the flesh
of a wood-pigeon, roast or baked ina pie, was exceed-
ingly good eating. The result not unnaturally was
that wherever these birds assembled, we used to have
gunners after them, hiding behind hedges and stalk-
ing their victims over turnip-fields until no place was
safe. True, these men were generally a better class
of sportsmen than the Christmas gunners of whom I
have already made mention. They scorned small birds,
and were, moreover, not such despicably bad shots as
the others. Still, you know, a man with a gun in his