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 
