THE RAVEN. 267 



THE RAVEN. 



Sape sinistra cava prasdixit ab ilice comix. Virg. 



IT is now about three and twenty years since the 

 last raven which frequented this neighbourhood 

 either lost its life for supposed offences against the 

 game-laws, or found it expedient to retire to some 

 distant part, where it could live unmolested, and 

 rear its brood in safety. Not far from hence, in 

 the middle of a wood, there was a large oak tree, 

 the bole of which, by its thickness and its towering 

 height, had set every idling boy at defiance, time 

 out of mind. On a huge limb of this giant son of 

 earth, a pair of ravens annually renewed their nest, 

 and reared a brood of young. At last, in evil hour, 

 a restless village cobbler got a scheme into his head 

 to plunder the establishment ; and he forthwith 

 engaged the blacksmith to make him some iron 

 spikes, which were to be affixed to his feet, in order 

 to facilitate his ascent into the tree. With this 

 provision, one Sunday morning, of all other days in 

 the week, the ragged rascal bent his unhallowed 

 steps towards the tree which contained the raven's 

 nest. By means of the spikes, he was enabled to 

 overcome the difficulties hitherto deemed insur- 

 mountable, by every passing vagabond, who had cast 

 a longing eye upon the treasure which was lodged 

 in the tree. He mounted aloft, and robbed the nest 

 of its young. From that unlucky day, the ravens 

 were never seen to alight again upon their once fa- 

 vourite tree. But they still lingered in the neigh- 



