BIRDS IN THE CALENDAR 



no longer echo the fusillade of the past four 

 months, that the farmers, furious at the sight 

 of green root-crops grazed as close as by 

 sheep and of young clover dug up over every 

 acre of their tilling, welcome the co-operation 

 of sportsmen glad to use up the balance of 

 their cartridges in organised pigeon battues. 

 These gatherings have, during the past five 

 years, become an annual function in parts of 

 Devonshire and the neighbouring counties, 

 and if the bag is somewhat small in pro- 

 portion to the guns engaged, a wholesome 

 spirit of sport informs those who take part, 

 and there is a curiously utilitarian atmos- 

 phere about the proceedings. Everyone 

 seems conscious that, in place of the usual 

 idle pleasure of the covert-side or among 

 the turnips, he is out for a purpose, not merely 

 killing birds that have been reared to make 

 his holiday, but actually helping the farmers 

 in their fight against Nature. As, moreover, 

 recent scares of an epidemic not unlike 

 diphtheria have precluded the use of the 

 birds for table purposes, the powder is burnt 

 with no thought of the pot. 



The usual plan is to divide the guns in 

 34 



