154 WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



lad to snap him, he's mortal clever at that sort o' 

 thing, an' I'll pay him fur doin' it He'll have him, 

 an' he wunt want to git roun' ye fur any old mead.' 



The sparrow-hawk is certainly a sad plague to 

 the poultry yard. If there is a pigeon-cote in it and 

 the female hunts with him, the birds will not escape 

 very easily. 



As pets I can say but little in their favour. I 

 had a pair good specimens of their tribe but they 

 caused a little bother at times. They had first-class 

 appetites, and if their wants were not attended to 

 promptly, shriek on shriek would follow in quick 

 succession, rousing other folks besides my wife and 

 myself. Now and again we received gentle intima- 

 tions from our neighbours that if people kept hawks 

 they had better feed them and not let them yell with 

 hunger. These hints did not disturb me, for my 

 birds were well fed and never neglected in any way. 

 Sometimes the pair pounced on my hand when I 

 introduced it into their cage with a bird and some 

 meat. If only one portion went in, there would be 

 a fight and awful yelling. They would never be 

 credited with the power they have in their slim-look- 

 ing legs and toes. It is certainly a case of tooth and 

 nail with them. 



The sparrow-hawk is a bold, courageous bird 



