HABITS AND FOOD 289 



Observe the habits of the magpie closely, 

 through a glass if possible, during any of the nine 

 remaining months of the year. A bicycle, run 

 between two high hedges, will sometimes enable 

 you to become the unseen guest of a whole family, 

 disporting themselves by the roadside. What is 

 yonder magpie tugging at in the middle of the 

 pasture? It is a huge earth-worm, clinging as 

 hard as he can cling for dear life, to the mother 

 earth, which still protects two-thirds of him. The 

 magpie drags him from his lair, and, swallowing 

 him piecemeal, hops off in quest of others. What 

 is that other magpie doing, not pulling but pecking 

 hard at something in the hedge-bank hard by? 

 Mark the place as exactly as you can, go straight 

 to it, and you will find the fragments of big snail 

 shells, still sticky with the slime of their just- 

 devoured tenants. Others of the brood are zig- 

 zagging over the grass, or flitting from bush to 

 bush, prying into every nook and cranny, and 

 picking up, now grubs and caterpillars in abundance, 

 now a mouse, now a frog, now seeds and berries 

 from the hedgerow. The father, meanwhile, or 

 more probably, the mother, anxious for, yet rejoicing, 

 like Diana among her nymphs, in the presence of 

 her numerous and beautiful progeny, beautiful as 



