184 THE HERON. 
Than these, a greater pest our statesmen never 
Sent from their old burnt house near London river. 
Kites were frequent here in the days of my 
father; but I, myself, have never seen one near the 
place. In 1813, I had my last sight of the buzzard. 
It used to repair to the storm-blasted top of an an- 
cient oak which grows near the water’s edge; and 
many and many a time again have I gone that way, 
on purpose to get a view of it. In the spring of that 
year, it went away to return no more; and, about the 
same period, our last raven was shot on its nest by a 
neighbouring gentleman. 
In vain I now look for any of these interesting 
birds in our surrounding woods. They have been de- 
clared great destroyers of game; they have, in con- 
sequence, suffered persecution; and like the family 
of poor Charley Stuart (God rest his soul!), they 
no longer appear on their own native land, in this 
district, where once they graced our rural scenery. 
The heron, however, notwithstanding this hostile 
feeling, has managed to survive its less fortunate 
neighbours. Always on the look-out, it sees in time 
the threatened danger, and generally contrives to 
avoid it ; for persecution has rendered it fully as shy 
and wary as the pie itself. Formerly, in this country, 
the heron was a protected bird, in order that it might 
afford pastime to the great ; but, nowadays (as little 
or nothing remains of falconry, except a title which 
introduces the finger and thumb of the bearer into 
the public purse), the heron is abandoned to its fate ; 
and the fishpond owners may way lay it with impu- 
nity, whenever an opportunity offers. 
