THE RAVEN. 



267 



THE RAVEN. 



Seepe sinistra cava praedixit ab ilice cornix. 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 en- 

 gaged 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 provi- 

 sion, 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 o vercome 

 the difficulties hitherto deemed insurmountable, 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 favourite 

 tree. But they still lingered in the neighbourhood ; 



