WINGED ROBBERS AND NEST-BUILDERS. I5I 



head is moved, staring out from the mass of head 

 feathers, give him the air of being very wise. 

 The long, thick, loral hairs completely hiding the 

 bill, and reaching on each side along the cheeks, 

 like a heavy mustache, the thick body feathers and 

 the pure, snow-white plumage of the legs and toes, 

 like good, thick stockings, testify how thoughtful 

 Nature has been in wrapping him up to withstand 

 the Arctic's cold. 



One of the most cruel of our feathered cut- 

 throats is the butcher-bird (^Lanius horealis). Orni- 

 thologists have placed him as the connecting link 

 between the sweet-voiced vieros and the seed-eat- 

 ing finches, but by some strange perversion he has 

 taken to the road as a highwayman and murderer, 

 and all the bird-preaching in the world will not 

 correct his strongly-confirmed bad habits. 



He breeds northward. In winter he journeys to 

 Middle and Southern New England, where game is 

 more abundant, and is seen lurking about fields 

 and orchards, and even in the cities, to prey on 

 those feathered metropolitans, the English spar- 

 rows. At times he lights on the telegraph wires 

 and the topmost twigs of the highest trees, as if 

 he was amusing himself by trying to know how 

 well he could keep his balance on such uncertain 



