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the Raven, the Kite, the Buzzard, and even the Peregrine; 

 but the last-named frequently makes them pay their life as 

 the forfeit of their temerity: they roost in trees and on rocks. 

 Mr. Weir, in a communication to Mr. Macgillivray, relates 

 that having shot a male at the nest, the female soon found 

 a new partner, 'some disconsolate widower, or disappointed 

 bachelor;' and when she was likewise shot, the step-father 

 continued single-handed to feed his adopted young. 



The Rev. W. Waldo Cooper has known a new partner ac- 

 quired thrice in one winter by the survivor; I was going to 

 say of the original pair, but this would be almost as difficult 

 to decide as the case of the new-handled, and then new-bladed 

 knife. Mr. Weir also found that a pair of old birds either 

 did not discover, or did not heed the substitution of some 

 young Rooks for their young, but continued to feed their 

 supposititious children as they had done their own. The 

 Crow is easily tamed, and exhibits precisely the same roguish 

 propensities that the Raven does, and like him may be taught 

 to imitate the human voice and a variety of sounds. 



'The Carrion Crow,' says Mr. W'eir, in a communication to 

 Mr. Macgillivray, 'is very easily tamed, and is strongly attached 

 to the person who brings him up. I kept one for two years 

 and a half. It flew round about the neighbourhood, and 

 roosted every night on the trees of my shrubbery. At what- 

 ever distance he was, as soon as he heard my voice, he 

 immediately came to me. He was very fond of being caressed, 

 but should any one, except myself, stroke him on the head 

 or back, he was sure to make the blood spring from their 

 fingers. He seemed to take a very great delight in pecking 

 the heels of bare-footed youths. The more terrified they were, 

 the more did his joy seem to increase. Even the heels of 

 my pointers, when he was in his merry mood, did not escape 

 his art of ingeniously tormenting. His memory was aston- 

 ishing. One Monday morning, after being satiated with food, 

 he picked up a mole, which was lying in the orchard, and 

 hopped with it into the garden. I kept out of his sight, as 

 lie seldom concealed anything when he thought you observed 

 him. He covered it so nicely with earth, that upon the most 

 diligent search I could not discover where he had put it. 

 As liis wings had been cut to prevent him from flying over 

 ^the wall into the garden, he made many a fruitless attempt 

 during the week to get in at the door. On Saturday evening, 

 however, it having been left open, I saw him hop to the very 



