6632 Birds. 



cause or other, however, they have long since disappeared, and are 

 not now known to visit the place. The raven will tame pretty well, 

 and become very tricky too if you like. One which I kept had such 

 a predilection for interfering w r ith water, that he could not see a pail 

 or tub containing any without attempting either to capsize it, or ren- 

 der the water useless by throwing in all sorts of filth and stones he 

 could lay his beak on ; this done, he would give a few croaks, and 

 retreat to some convenient spot out of harm's way. And as for 

 thieving, he was a perfect devil. But everybody liked him, despite 

 his mischievous pranks. One kept by a person here was just such 

 another: he stole everything he could carry off, and when his retreat 

 or nefarious repository was discovered it contained more than a bar- 

 row full of miscellaneous articles. A bonnet or a cap was a most 

 glorious prize. You had no more to do, if you saw a boy passing, 

 than to whisper to the raven " bonnet" or " hat," as the case might be, 

 w T hen off he would go to the boy's back, and soon possess himself of 

 the article, which not every little chap could retake. In a part of our 

 town called Gallowhill there once lived a bit of a character called 

 Robert Rhynd, but more commonly Rob Rinn, a shoemaker, who 

 gained for himself the cognomen of "Boots," simply because he wore 

 those articles, and delighted in having them always very clean. But 

 he did'nt like the name at all, in fact he could not bear it, and well 

 did the youngsters of the neighbourhood know it, and many were the 

 battles he had with them ; and to throw dirt of any sort on his boots 

 was just as bad. At this time another individual, of quite a different 

 stamp, and one which the mischievous portion soon initiated into the 

 secret of " Boots," came to live in the same locality ; and so artfully 

 did the new comer perform his work that the poor snob could not 

 leave his house without being instantly assailed by a hoarse, croaking 

 sound of " Boots, Boots, Boots ;" and if dirt could be got, it was a 

 rare case if Rob did'nt get his boots bespattered before he got home 

 again. It was in vain that he swore and kicked : the raven was too 

 bold for him. It pleased the urchins to the very heart to see the bird 

 and Rob in a fix. The boys he chased ; the bird he could make nothing 

 of. At length, however, the raven, during some of his wanderings about 

 the place, by mere chance got upon the top of a wall, where, through 

 a window, who should he espy but his old friend hammering away at 

 a piece of leather. This was too much to let slip. Habit is a terrible 

 thing. Round he turns fairly in front of the window, becking and 



bowing, and croaking out " Boots, Boots." " Aye ! ! " roared our 



friend, maddened at the seeming impudence of the bird, "I'll 'boot' 



