Birds and 
Cricket. 
(39) THE BIRD WORLD. 
Birds and Cricket. 
Mr. F. E. Lacey, the secretary to the 
M.C.C., has given recently some par¬ 
ticulars anent bird life at Lord’s which 
are truly astounding. The few who have 
played cricket at Lord’s, and the many 
who have watched it there since those 
far-off days when at the east end were 
flowery nurseries and no mound, would 
hardly recognise in it the ideal hunting 
ground for rare wild birds. During 
those hours of crowded excitement, when 
intervals of tense silence are punctuated 
with moments of applause, no wild birds 
are likely to show themselves beyond the 
few already familiar in that most leafy 
suburb in summer weather: Sparrows, 
Starlings, Martins, Swallows, an occa¬ 
sional Wagtail tripping daintily near the 
feet of someone fielding in the country, 
perchance a solitary Wood-pigeon wing¬ 
ing its way to high nesting-places in the 
neighbouring park. 
To these half-dozen it would puzzle 
the average cricket watcher to add a 
seventh. Yet Mr. Lacey, whose offi¬ 
cial residence looks on the ground, 
and who, in the intervals of onerous 
duties, has a wakeful eye for bird life, 
has spoken of no fewer than thirty- 
one kinds noted by him as visiting 
the place. Without enumerating the 
whole list, I must mention the Raven, 
Sparrow Hawk, Snipe, Cuckoo, Siskin, 
Wheatear, Flycatcher, Wren, and three 
of the Titmice, to wit, the Great, Blue, 
and Coal Tits. 
I pass over the Raven as almost cer¬ 
tainly a truant from either the aviaries 
of the Zoo, which is only a thousand 
yards distant, or the garden of an actor 
in the next street, who, until recently, at 
any rate, kept all manner of wild British 
birds in a very qualified captivity. The 
Titmice, also, are sufficiently common in 
some of the gardens that look on Lord’s 
to occasion little curiosity when met with 
in his list. 
But the Snipe! Two hundred years 
ago, to be sure, when we have it on 
record that there was excellent Snipe 
shooting in “ Mary-la-Bonne,” the ap¬ 
parition of a Snipe in St. John’s Wood 
must have been common enough, but 
nowadays one would as soon expect to 
hear the blowing of a whale as the 
drumming of a Snipe. Where could he 
have come from, and where could he 
have been going? We know the sort of 
swampy spots where we are likely to find 
the birds with the long bills, but they are 
not in the vicinity of St. John’s Wood. 
The call of the Cuckoo would also fall 
strangely on ears more attuned to cries 
of “Well hit, sir!” or “How’s that?” 
The Sparrow Hawk, too, for which, until 
the wanderer’s voice betrays it, the 
Cuckoo might well be taken by eyes less 
experienced, has been seen quartering 
the ground for a meal; and the tiny 
Wren has flitted among the surrounding 
bushes. 
The Flycatcher, presumably the 
spotted kind, is, says Mr. Lacey, 
common, and of Wheatears a party of 
four stayed on the ground for a week, a 
good innings for such restless travellers 
so far from their natural haunts. To 
the lover of birds compelled to spend 
much of his life amid bricks and mortar 
there must be rare solace in the visits of 
these tender creatures to mitigate the 
harsh verdict of the Frenchman, who 
declared that towns were but the sinks of 
humanity. 
No one would ever imagine such a 
number of birds being seen at Lord's, 
though it is somewhat of a birdy place, 
even when cricket is in progress, but Mr. 
Lacey’s observations have been made at 
such times as Lord’s was quiet. The 
M.C.C. secretary had a special country 
training at an agricultural college, and 
his ornithological knowledge may be im¬ 
plicitly trusted. Bird lovers who are 
also cricketers will find an added interest 
in Lord’s. 
