302 BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE 



glum silence. Finally the young man, carried 

 away by his enthusiasm, stopped and turning to 

 his companion shouted, "Listen! Listen! Do 

 you hear the larks?" 



"Oh, yes," drawled the other, looking more 

 glum than ever, "I hear them fast enough. And 

 I wish they were all dead!" 



So with the other charming species. The moan 

 of doves in immemorial elms is a pleasing sound 

 to the poets, but it does not prevent the farmers 

 throughout the land from wishing them all dead; 

 and every person who possesses a gun is glad to 

 help in their massacre. For the bird is a pest and 

 he who shoots it is doing something for England; 

 furthermore, shooting it is lirst-rate sport, not like 

 slaughtering wretched little sparrows or Innocent 

 young rooks just out of their windy cradles. And 

 when shot It is a good table-bird, with as much 

 tasty flesh on it as a woodcock or partridge. 



How, then can we account for the increase of 

 such a species? One cause is undoubtedly to be 

 found in the removal by gamekeepers of its three 

 chief enemies — the carrion crow, magpie, and jay 

 — all these three being great devourers of 

 pigeon's eggs, which of all eggs are most con- 



