332 THE STORMCOCK. 



carrion crow, notwithstanding all your pains to instruct him, will 

 remain as unmusical as Paddy's fiddle, which was dumb for want of 

 catgut. We listen with delight to the many species of male birds 

 which make the groves resound with their melody ; and we cannot 

 imagine why the females so seldom venture an attempt at song ; for 

 we know that with us both ladies and gentlemen are full of fine 

 sounds. Wherever a Braham is heard, there is sure to be a Billing- 

 ton not far off. 



However, should it be the case, in ornithology, that Nature has 

 ordered the male to sing his female to repose, there are some exceptions 

 to the supposed general rule. I may adduce the stormcock, by way 

 of example, for he warbles nearly the year throughout. I have often 

 heard him pour forth his wild and plaintive notes in the months 

 of August, October, November, and December, and in every follow- 

 ing month, until the sun has entered into Cancer, at which period 

 he seems to unstring his lyre for a few weeks. Towards the close of 

 December his song is particularly charming ; and it becomes more 

 frequent as the new year advances. I remember well (indeed, I 

 noted down the circumstance), that on December 21, 1827, his carol 

 was remarkably attractive. He warbled incessantly from the top of 

 a lofty elm, just as the poor from a neighbouring village were re- 

 ceiving corn under it, in memory of St. Thomas the Apostle. In the 

 olden time, it was a common practice throughout the land to dis- 

 tribute corn to the needy, on the day in which the festival of this 

 glorious saint is kept. At present the good dole seems fast approach- 

 ing to its latter end. Probably in a few years more it will fall a 

 victim to the times, and be trodden under foot in the modern march 

 of intellect. 



This bird, though usually known by the name of the misletoe 

 thrush in many parts of England, is invariably called the stormcock 

 by all the lower orders in our neighbourhood ; not that it delights in 

 storms more than in fine weather, but that Nature has taught it to 

 pour forth its melody at a time of the year when the bleak winds of 

 winter roar through the leafless trees. Should, however, a few days 

 of calm and warmth succeed to the chilling blast, then the storm- 

 cock is heard to sing if anything more sweetly than before. 



The stormcock is a decided inhabitant of trees, except sometimes 



