206 
NATURE NOTES 
Pepys, concerning the skylark. He says that when a snake 
sees a skylark singing he gets underneath and opens his mouth 
wide, at the same time fascinating him with his eyes. The 
skylark gradually circles downward, being so under the fascina- 
tion apparently as to be unable to stop singing ; and, when he 
gets close, the glare of the snake’s eye becomes too much for 
him, and he drops into the snake’s mouth and is devoured, and 
the snake moves on to the next lark. This, he says, accounts 
for the sudden ceasing of the lark’s song when he gets near the 
ground — a very interesting explanation. 
I believe that the robin is in some places considered a bird 
of ill-omen, for what reason it is not exactly known. He 
certainly looks quite the contrary with his red waistcoat and 
bright eye. There is another superstition which affects both the 
robin and the wren. 
“ Kill a robin or a wren, 
Never prosper, boy or man,” 
runs the very old couplet. It is quite refreshing to come across 
a superstition which has some sense in it, as I know that it has 
saved many a bird from death at the hands of young urchins 
with catapults and other weapons of rather uncertain character, 
who are too young to ridicule the superstition and really believe 
that if they kill either of the birds I have mentioned some 
dreadful calamity will overtake them. One thing is quite 
certain, that those who see any sport, or “ fun ” as they call it, 
in destroying two such perfectly harmless and beautiful little 
creatures as robins and wrens, certainly never deserve to prosper. 
1 think the wren is (or was) considered unlucky in Ireland. 
The nightjar has created quite a scandal, as he is supposed 
to suck the udders of goats, hence the name “ goat-sucker.” I 
think this is about the most absurd of all superstitions and, 
unfortunately, it has led to many birds being shot and many 
eggs destroyed by people who will not take the trouble to 
enquire as to its accuracy. What the nightjar lives on in 
districts where there are no goats, the superstition does not 
explain. 
The owl (usually the barn owl) is another bird of most 
sinister reputation. He, like the bad fellow he is, cannot allow 
people to die in peace, but hoots at the window of the sick room 
and taps the window frame. This must be extremely discon- 
certing to the poor sufferer. Personally, I am afraid I should 
have the bird shot and so have a companion in affliction, if I 
believed in this superstition. 
The swan “ floats down the river to die, singing sweetly.” 
He must have a very fine sense of humour to sing at his own 
funeral, so to speak. This is a very poetical idea, but I am 
afraid, that like some other poetical ideas, its accuracy is not 
beyond impeachment, but this is easily got over by a pleasant 
little fiction known as “ poetical licence.” 
There are many other superstitions, of which a passing 
