THE ROOK. 



93 



motives of fear, the most profound veneration. 1 

 One of these that had been kept in the 

 temple of Castor, as Pliny informs us, flew 

 down into the shop of a tailor, who took much 

 delight in the visits of his new acquaintance. 

 He taught the bird several tricks ; but par- 

 ticularly to pronounce the names of the em- 

 peror Tiberius, and the whole royal family. 

 The tailor was beginning to grow rich by those 

 who came to see this wonderful raven, till an 

 envious neighbour, displeased at the tailor's 

 success, killed the bird, and deprived the tailor 

 of his future hopes of fortune. The Romans, 

 however, took the poor tailor's part ; they 

 punished the man who offered the injury, and 

 gave the raven all the honours of a magni- 

 ficent interment. 



Birds in general live longer than quadrupeds ; 

 and the raven is said to be one of the most 

 long-lived of the number. Hesiod asserts, 

 that a raven will live nine times as long as a 

 man ; but though this is fabulous, it is certain 

 that some of them have been known to live 

 near a hundred years. This animal seems 

 possessed of those qualities that generally pro- 

 duce longevity, a good appetite, and great ex- 

 ercise. In clear weather, the ravens fly in 

 pairs to a great height, making a deep loud 

 noise, different from that of their usual croak- 

 ing. 



The carrion-crow resembles the raven in 

 'ts appetites, its laying, and manner of bring, 

 ing up its young. It only differs in being 

 less bold, less docile, and less favoured by 

 mankind. 



The rook leads the way in another, but a 

 more harmless train, that have no carnivorous 

 appetites, but only feed upon insects and corn. 

 The Royston (or hooded) crow is about the 

 size of the two former. The breast, belly, 

 back, and upper part of the neck, being of a 

 pale ash colour; the head and wings glossed 

 over with a fine blue. He is a bird of pas- 

 sage, visiting this kingdom in the beginning 

 of winter, and leaving it in the spring. He 

 breeds, however, in different parts of the 

 British dominions ; and his nest is common 

 enough in trees in Ireland. The jackdaw 

 is black, like all the former, but ash-coloured 



1 In several passages, Shakspeare alludes to the ominous 

 character of the raven. 



" The raven himsplf is bourse 

 That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan 

 Under my battlements." 



Macfieth, Act. i. Scene 5. 



"It comes o'er my memory, 

 As doth the raven o'er the infected house, 

 Boding to all." 



OtM/n, Acti Scene 4. 



See also The Tempest, Act i. Scene 2. 



on the breast and belly. He is not above the 

 size of a pigeon. He is docile and loquacious. 

 His head is large for the size of his body, 

 which, as has been remarked, argues him in- 

 genious and crafty. He builds in steeples, 

 old castles, and high rocks, laying five or 

 six eggs in a season. The Cornish chough 

 is like a jackdaw, but bigger, and almost the 

 size of a crow. The bill, feet, and legs, are 

 long like those of a jackdaw, but of a red 

 colour; and the plumage is -black all over. 

 It frequents rocks, old castles, and churches 

 by the sea side, like the daw; and with the 

 same noisy assiduity. It is only seen along 

 the western coasts of England. These are 

 birds very similar in their manners, feeding 

 on grain and insects, living in society, and 

 often suffering general castigation from the 

 flock for the good of the community. 



The rook, as is well known, builds in woods 

 and forests in the neighbourhood of man, and 

 sometimes makes choice of groves in the very 

 midst of cities for the place of its retreat and 

 security. In these it establishes a kind of 

 legal constitution, by which all intruders are 

 excluded from coming to live among them, 

 and none suffered to build but acknowledged 

 natives of the place. I have often amused 

 myself with observing their plan of policy 

 from my window in the Temple, that looks 

 upon a grove where they have made a colony 

 in the midst of the city. At the commence- 

 ment of spring, the rookery, which during 

 the continuance of winter seemed to have 

 been deserted, or only guarded by about five 

 or six, like old soldiers in a garrison, now 

 begins to be once more frequented ; and in a 

 short time all the bustle and hurry of busi- 

 ness is fairly commenced. Where these 

 numbers resided during the winter is not 

 easy to guess ; perhaps in the trees of hedge- 

 rows, to be nearer their food. In spring, how- 

 ever, they cultivate their native trees ; and, 

 in the places where they were themselves 

 hatched, they prepare to propagate a future 

 progeny. 2 



2 Country people suppose that when rooks return from 

 pasture making a more than usual noise with their 

 wings, and with a quick flight, it is a sign of rain; and 

 that, if part of them stay at the rookery, and sport about 

 the trees, making their cawing note in a softer tone than 

 usual, three or four times successively, it is a sign of 

 fine weather. 



Rooks appear to have a language amongst themselves, 

 which is understood by the whole community ; and a 

 peculiar note from a bird set to watch and to warn them' 

 of approaching danger, is quite sufficient to make them 

 take flight, and always in an opposite direction to that 

 from which the danger is apprehended. 



" Their danger well the wary plunderers know. 

 And place a watch on some conspicuous bough." 



As the rook is a favourite, I am always sorry to sej 



