THE ROOK. 131 
Tam O’Shanter unfortunately peeped into Kirk 
Alloway. Foreigners tell us that on these nights 
Englishmen are prone to use the knife, ora piece of 
twisted hemp, to calm their agitated spirits. For 
my own part, I must say that I have an insuperable 
repugnance to such anodynes; and, were a host of 
blue devils, conjured up by November’s fogs, just 
now to assail me, I would prefer combating the 
phantoms with the weapons of ornithology, rather 
than run any risk of disturbing the economy of my 
jugular vein, by a process productive of very un- 
pleasant sensations, before it lulls one to rest. 
According to my promise, I will now pen downa 
few remarks on the habits of the rook, which bird, 
in good old sensible times, was styled frugilegus. It is 
now pronounced to be predatorius. Who knows but 
that our Great Ones in Ornithology, may ultimately 
determine to call it up to the house of hawks ? 
If this useful bird were not so closely allied to the 
carrion crow in colour and in shape, we should see: 
it sent up to the tables of the rich, as often as we 
see the pigeon. But prejudice forbids the appearance 
of broiled rook in the lordly mansion. If we wish 
to partake of it, we must repair to the cottage of the 
lowly swain, or, here and there, to the hall of the 
homely country squire, whose kitchen has never been 
blessed by the presence of a first-rate cook, and 
whose yearnings for a good and wholesome dish, are 
not stifled by the fear of what a too highly polished 
world will say. 
There is no wild bird in England so completely 
gregarious as the rook; or so regular in its daily 
K 2 
