Preface 



wheatears, and other moorland birds. I wish some 

 epicure would try a boiled rook's egg for breakfast and 

 proclaim from the house-tops of Belgravia its superiority 

 over that of the plover or lapwing. It would be a great 

 boon to the latter bird, which is being slowly but surely 

 exterminated, to the detriment of the farmer in 

 particular, and the public in general. 



To the too ardent egg-collector, and especially the 

 clutch enthusiast, whose appetite is insatiable, I would 

 say: "For Heaven's sake have mercy." All that can 

 be known, or is worth knowing, in regard to variation 

 in the coloration and markings of British birds' eggs 

 has already been discovered, and there is but little room 

 in that direction for originality. Try old china or 

 worm-eaten furniture and give the poor birds a chance. 

 In all conscience they need it, and there are still some 

 people about who delight in their sweet songs and 

 charming ways. 



Whether it is due to the latent savagery released by 

 the influences of the Great War or some other cause I 

 cannot tell, but children appear to be much crueller 

 than they were a decade or two ago. Alas ! I am in 

 a position to supply incontestable evidence upon this 

 point from what I have witnessed with my own eyes. 

 If school masters and mistresses would try to humanize 

 boys and girls who come under their care and influence, 

 I am persuaded it would make far better and happier 

 citizens of them than all the unmattering dates and 

 fairy tales of history that ever bored the youthful mind. 



All the Acts of Parliament passed during recent 



vi 



