ROOKS. 197 



We remember, a few years ago, seeing, for several days, a 

 flight of Books regularly resorting to a field close to the house ; 

 and, on walking over it, observed that the whole surface was 

 covered with uprooted stems of one particular plant, and on 

 looking more narrowly it was ascertained that many of those 

 still untouched were of an unhealthy yellow appearance, and 

 that to these alone the Rooks seemed to direct their attention ; 

 and, on still closer examination, the roots of each of these 

 unhealthy plants were found to have been attacked by a small 

 grub, which at once accounted for the daily presence of these 

 sable visitants. 



A similar testimony in favour of a bird of this species, the 

 Purple Grakle, or New England Jackdaw, occurs in King's 

 Narrative (vol. ii. p. 217). He says that "a reward of three- 

 pence a dozen was once awarded in that country for the ex- 

 tirpation of the Grakles ; and the object was almost effected, 

 to the cost of the inhabitants, who at length discovered that 

 Providence had not formed these supposed destructive birds 

 in vain ; for, notwithstanding they caused great havoc among 

 the grain, they made ample recompense by clearing the soil of 

 the noxious worms, particularly of one called the pease-beetle. 

 For no sooner were the birds destroyed, than the insects multi- 

 plied to such a degree, as to cause the total loss of the grass in 

 1 749, when the colonists had to get their hay from Pennsylvania, 

 and even from Great Britain." 



We often hear persons congratulating themselves on a deep 

 snow, a hard frost, or dry weather, as the surest means of 

 destroying insects ; whereas it is just the reverse. A hard 

 frost, or a deep snow, or a dry summer, are the very best pro- 

 tection they can have, and for this reason : the Rooks and 

 other birds cannot reach that innumerable host which pass the 

 greatest part of their existence under ground. In vain the 

 hungry Rook, in a hard frost, looks over a fine fallow, or a 

 field of new-sown wheat. He may be seen sitting on a bare 

 bough, like Tantalus, in the midst of plenty beyond his reach, 

 with his feathers ruffled up, casting every now and then an 

 anxious glance over the frozen surface, beyond the power of 

 even his strong beak to penetrate. His situation is much the 



