174 OLD TOKENS OF WIND AND WEATHER 



entirely, upon seeds, and has its mandibles constructed 

 in a very peculiar manner, to aid this established ap- 

 pointment of its life. In the winter season it will fre- 

 quent the stacks in the farm-yard, in company with 

 others, to feed upon any corn that may be found scatter- 

 ed about; but, little inclined to any association with 

 man, it prefers those situations which are most lonely 

 and distant from the village. It could hardly be supposed 

 that this bird, not larger than a lark, is capable of doing 

 serious injury ; yet I this morning witnessed a rick of 

 barley, standing in a detached field, entirely stripped of 

 its thatching, which this bunting effected by seizing the 

 end of the straw, and deliberately drawing it out, to 

 search for any grain the ear might yet contain ; the base 

 o^ the rick being entirely surrounded by the straw, one 

 end resting on the ground, the other against the mow, 

 as it slid down from the summit, and regularly placed 

 as if by the hand ; and so completely was the thatching 

 pulled off, that the immediate removal of the corn be- 

 came necessary. The sparrow and other birds burrow 

 into the ^stack, and pilfer the corn ; but the deliberate 

 operation of unroofing the edifice appears to be the 

 habit of this bunting alone. 



Old simplicities, tokens of winds and weather, and 

 the plain observances of rural life, are everywhere 

 waning fast to decay. Some of them may have been 

 fond Conceits; but they accorded with the ordinary 

 manners of the common people, and marked times, 

 seasons, and things, with sufficient truth for those who 

 had faith in them. Little as we retain of these obsolete 

 fancies, we have not quite abandoned them all ; and 

 there are yet found among our peasants, a few who 

 mark the blooming of the large white lily (lilium can- 

 didum), and think that the number of its blossoms on a 

 stem will indicate the price of wheat by the bushel for 

 the ensuing year, each blossom equivalent to a shilling. 

 We expect a sunny day, too, when the pimpernel (ana- 

 gallis arvensis) fully expands its blossoms ; a dubious, 

 or a moist one, when they are closed. In this belief, 

 however, we have the sanction of some antiquity to 

 support us; Sir F. Bacon records it; Gerarde notes it 



