334 THE STORMCOCK. 



The stormcock surpasses all other thrushes in size, and is de- 

 cidedly the largest songster of the European birds. He remains 

 with us the whole of the year ; and he is one of three birds which 

 charm us with their melody during the dreary months of winter, when 

 the throstle and the lark are silent, and all the migratory birds have 

 left us, to sojourn in warmer climates. On this account I prize him 

 doubly. He appears to be gregarious in the months of August and 

 September. I have occasionally counted from forty to fifty of these 

 birds in a flock ; and I suspect they are sometimes mistaken for an 

 early arrival of fieldfares, by those who pay attention to the migra- 

 tion of birds. 



The stormcock is remarkably fond of the berries of the mountain- 

 ash. He who loves to see this pretty songster near his dwelling 

 would do well to plant a number of mountain-ashes in the midst of 

 his pleasure-grounds : they are of quick growth, and they soon pro- 

 duce an abundance of berries. Whilst the fruit of these trees affords 

 a delicious autumnal repast to the stormcock, the branches which 

 bear the berries are well known to be an effectual preservative 

 against the devilish spells of witchcraft. In the village of Walton I 

 have two small tenants : the name of one is James Simpson, that of 

 the other Sally Holloway, and Sally's house stands a little before the 

 house of Simpson. Some three months ago I overtook Simpson on 

 the turnpike road, and I asked him if his cow were getting better, for 

 his son had told me she had fallen sick. " She 's coming on surpris- 

 ingly, sir," quoth he. " The last time that the cow-doctor came to 

 see her, ' Jem,' said he to me, looking earnestly at old Sally's house, 

 * Jem,' said he, ' mind and keep your cow-house door shut before the 

 sun goes down, otherwise I won't answer what may happen to the 

 cow/ ' Ay, ay, my lad,' said I, ' I understand your meaning ; but I 

 am up to the old slut, and I defy her to do me any harm now.' " 

 "And what has old Sally been doing to you, James ? " said I. " Why, 

 sir," replied he, " we all know, too well, what she can do. She has 

 long owed me a grudge ; and my cow, which was in very good health, 

 fell sick immediately after Sally had been seen to look in at the door 

 of the cow-house, just as night was coming on. The cow grew worse 

 and worse ; and so I went and cut a bundle of wiggin (mountain- 

 ash), and I nailed the branches all up and down the cow-house ; and, 



