290 THE MAGPIE 



herself, stands sentinel on the topmost twig of some 

 neighbouring ash tree, her lustrous tail waving 

 gracefully up and down, never from side to side, as 

 the breeze catches it, much as does that of a butcher 

 bird, perched on a similar coign of vantage, or of a 

 water wagtail, scuttling over the freshly mown lawn, 

 or among the stones of the rippling brook. Weigh 

 in the balance, if such things ever can be weighed, 

 the beauty and interest and cheeriness of the bird, 

 and the good he does, during three quarters of the 

 year against any mischief he may do, during the 

 remaining one quarter, by somewhat lessening the 

 number of pheasants or partridges which are to be 

 slaughtered at the annual battue, and say which 

 scale will kick the beam. 



A word or two upon the name of magpie and 

 other local appellations given to this sprightly 

 bird. The subject, like most etymological 

 questions in natural history, is of interest in 

 more ways than one, and its investigation throws 

 light upon the historic character of the bird. 

 "Pie," or, as it used to be spelt, "pye," is the 

 Latin pica, a bird which, as early as the time 

 of Ovid, who was a real observer of birds 

 the best, I think, in the whole range of classi- 

 cal literature was believed to have the power 



