it is called flesh-crow, and also the gore-crow, which is shortened to gor-crow, as in Ben Jonson: "Vulture, kite, raven, and gorcrow, all my birds of prey." Other names are applied by the peasantry, such as blackneb, corby-crow, and midden-crow.

The geographical range of the carrion-crow, though less than that of the raven, is wide; extending through England, France, Spain, Italy, and Germany, and along the south of Europe to the Black Sea. It has also a home in the western hemisphere, if the American carrion-crow is included in our calculation; but this bird is not of the same species with our member of the Corvida family.

In concluding this notice of the carrion-crow, we must remind the reader that the name corone affixed to the term corvus is only the Greek appellation for the crow. Thus the word corvus applies to all members of the Corvide family; but, to distinguish the crow from the rest, naturalists have employed the epithet

corone.

THE HOODED CROW (Corvus cornix).

This species is not a constant resident with us, but arrives in the autumn and departs in spring; we might thus call it the winter crow. These birds are supposed to come from Norway or Sweden to the south of England, but abound in the northern and western isles of Scotland throughout the year, and were formerly so numerous in those parts, that regulations were established and money paid for their destruction. Four or five hundred may sometimes be seen together on these islands, and many are also found in the Scotch Lowlands.

The term hooded is applied to this crow from the grey plumage which covers the upper part of the body like a mantle or hood, from which it is called hoody in the Orkneys, and in some parts the grey-backed crow, or dun crow. Some have erroneously ascribed the grey coating of the bird to age, and supposed it to be an old carrion-crow; this guess has now departed, with a host of kindred fancies which formerly flitted to and fro over the field of natural history. The ignorant only will still persist in giving the coat of grey to the old carrion-crow. But, though a distinct species, the hooded crow much resembles the carrion in its habits, feeding upon eggs and young poultry, to which it not unfrequently adds fish, especially young limpets.

Some naturalists have observed a peculiar note uttered by the hooded crow in the quiet of the early morning, a plaintive sound in an ascending minor third, which may be called the bird's morning song.

THE RED-LEGGED CROW (Corvus graculus).

This bird is not considered a true crow, but a link between such and the starling family; it is, however, classed with the Corvida, which it resembles in most of its habits. It is often called the Cornish chough, from a supposition that it was peculiar to that county. This is not the case, as the bird is found on many parts of the Irish coast, in the Scottish Western Islands, and in the hilly parts of France, Switzerland, and Spain. It does not in general depart from the sea-shore, though a few have been seen on Mitcham Common, Surrey, and in some other inland districts. Some appear to have frequented Dover cliffs in the time of Shakspeare, whose allusion favours such a supposition:

"The crows and choughs that wing the midway air,

Shew scarce so gross as beetles.'

This bird is of some note in Cornish history, as it was borne in the arms of ancient families in that part of England. Its appearance is singular and striking, for whilst the general colour of the body resembles the raven's bluish-black, the beak, legs, and toes are a vermilion red; presenting a beautiful relief to the dark tints of the other parts. The beak is more slender than in the other Corvida, indicating more graceful habits than the bill of the raven or rook; hence it is less addicted to attack other birds, preferring to feed on insects, berries, and grain.

The crow has several names, being called, in some parts, the Cornish daw, and Cornwall kae; in others, the killigrew, chankdaw, and market jew-crow.

Let us now proceed to the fifth division of the crow family.

THE ROOK (Corvus frugilegus).

This bird is continually confounded with the crow, even by persons who are accustomed to see both birds every day. There is some little excuse for this error, as the appearance of the two Corvide is nearly the same, though their habits are sufficiently distinct to prevent such a classification by naturalists. When the rook is full grown, it may be distinguished by a peculiar bareness round the lower part of the beak, as if the constant habit of digging in the ground for insects had worn off the feathers; not that such is the case, as we shall presently see. This bareness gives a white and scaly appearance to the base of the bill, which may be readily observed even at a distance. The colour of the bird is a rich glossy black, relieved by bluish tints on the sides of the neck and head.

Linnæus gave it the name of frugilegus, which term signifies a collector of grain, and was deemed an appropriate designation for a grain feeder. The appellation would be correct, did the rook live wholly on grain; but this is not the case, as the food of the bird consists chiefly of insects; certainly it feeds as much on them as on grain. Frugilegus is, therefore, scarcely more appropriate to the rook than to the crow.

Some have lately tried to elevate the rook by giving him a new name, which is, however, more objectionable than the oldfashioned Linnæan appellation. This new term is predatorius, a word of bad sound, implying the possession of savage qualities, habits of prey, and a thievish disposition. To all these charges the rook may plead "not guilty." The term frugilegus may not be sufficiently descriptive, as it comprehends only one of the bird's feeding habits, but it is true as far as it goes; whereas, predatorius conveys a wrong notion, and is more appropriate to the hawk or vulture than the rook. The name of grain-collecting crow is certainly more applicable than that of the preying crow; the term frugilegus has therefore been retained in this article, as more appropriate than predatorius to this bird. For though the rook does sometimes engage in battle with hawks, this is for the protection of its young, not from a predacious disposition. The food of this bird may be inferred from the perseverance with which it follows the plough as it turns up the bottom of the heavy clods. How seldom do we see the plough-share at work without the attendant rooks following with watchful eyes the ploughman's track! Mark how the birds descend into the furrows, how repeatedly the powerful bill searches into each freshly turned up clod! What is the object of this scrutiny? Not grain, certainly; but abundance of worms and grubs are thrown up from their former hiding-places, and exposed to the keen eye of the hungry rook. When we consider the clouds of rooks which, in the course of a year, descend on the lands of one parish, it must be evident that myriads of insects and grubs are annually destroyed by these birds. In these instances, the rook is certainly a friend to the farmer; such hosts of insects would quickly reduce his most promising field to a waste. But the services of the corvus frugilegus are not over when the ploughing season has passed. The daily wants of the bird force him to a perpetual seeking for food, and it so happens that the grubs and insects most destructive to vegetation are eagerly sought for by the rook. When the young wheat springs up, it is exposed to the depredations of numerous grubs, which feed on its roots, and soon render the plant sickly. Now these grubs are the rook's prized morsels; he quickly discovers the fields where they lurk, and attacks the subterranean depredators. The rustic, seeing the rooks descend on the wheat lands, and dig up the wheat, fancies the birds are destroying the hope of the future harvest, and immediately attacks his valuable auxiliaries

with powder and shot. He does not probably detect the appearance of disease in the wheat, and is ignorant of the important services the dreaded birds are rendering.

The agriculturist may be certain of one thing, that the rook is more beneficial than hurtful to his crops; the bird never prefers grain; it would much rather feed on insects; and in spring these are generally abundant, consequently the rook has then little temptation to attack the newly-sown seeds. This may sometimes be the case in frosty weather, when insects cannot be procured; or in dry seasons, when they are too deep in the ground to be reached by the rook's beak. Wheat-ricks are then attacked; but this is an extraordinary event, and therefore no criterion by which to ascertain the food most preferred by the rook. Those who have tamed these birds always find insects eaten in preference to seeds; indeed, grain is uniformly rejected when an insectivorous diet is procurable. The farms in our southern counties are often infested by the grub of the cockchafer; these are eagerly sought by the rook, which thus removes a source of mischief from the land.

Those who have seen a field of turnips perishing from the attacks of insect myriads, can estimate the advantages derived from the destruction of the eggs from which so terrible a pest has issued. The good services of the rook are nevertheless often overlooked, and his whole species persecuted to death by the farmers in some places. What is the result of these rook-slaughterings? Abundance of grain, plentiful crops, and full barns? Let us see what happened in our own country not many years ago. Some Devonshire agriculturists, having brought themselves to regard the corvus frugilegus as the destroyer of their corn, combined for the annihilation of all such birds within their district. Powder and shot soon began their work; the surprised rooks fell in thousands, and their gothic destroyers exulted over the effects of their skill and valour. The birds had no chance in such a war; whole colonies perished, and the caw of a rook was almost as great a rarity as the scream of an eagle. The farmers were in high glee; village boys had reaped a harvest of pence for their efforts in the grand extermination: but the time of retribution came; the laws of nature had been disregarded by such a destruction in one of her kingdoms, and the results appeared in a shape most unexpected by those who had neglected the great truth, that nothing has been formed for evil. For three years the crops failed, insects and grubs of every order increased, and the Corvicides at last awoke to some perception of their egregious blunder. Every attempt was then made to attract rooks to the neighbourhood, and some landholders went so far as to procure numbers of the birds from a distance to replenish the desolated rookeries of the district. These efforts at last succeeded; though some time elapsed before the consequences of the great slaughter were checked. Such lessons have often been taught to those men who

are ever regarding nature as their foe. It is impossible to estimate the benefits derived from the operations of the rooks upon ploughed lands, from which millions of grubs are extracted by these birds. It has been calculated that sixty thousand acres of wheat are destroyed every year in England by the wire-worm only. The employment of boys to pick out the grubs has frequently cost the agriculturists large sums of money; fifteen thousand have been taken from a single acre by boys, each of whom collected six hundred a day. How much more effective a flock of birds on such lands than a troop of boys! How rich is the appearance of the ploughed fields, when the pale golden light of the evening sun casts its mellowing tints over a thousand furrows! How little do we suppose that tens of thousands of destructive grubs are lurking in those smiling fields to destroy the farmer's hopes! For their destruction, various flocks of birds are provided in the system of nature; and the rook is not the least efficient amongst such agents.

Few peculiarities in the habits of the rook have attracted more observation than those colonies, called rookeries, which so frequently impart a charm to ancient English parks. The traveller hears, amid the evening stillness, the cawings from some crowded establishment break upon the solitude; the rooks seem engaged by thousands in some "faction tumult,” startling, by their multitudinous voices, the prowling fox, or flitting owl. There are certain times of the year in which these rook-argumentations are more frequently heard; the beginning of April is particularly signalised by such conversaziones. Probably the various little pilferings then committed by the less honest birds upon the nests of others may contribute to these evening tumults. We can

imagine a pair of rooks labouring through the day to build a comfortable house for their young, and conceive their rage upon finding, at their return from a long journey, the half-formed nest despoiled of the materials collected with so much toil. At once the alarm-cry is raised, the whole rookery responds, till at length a thousand aërial tocsins send their echoes for miles around. At other times these combined cawings are of a more peaceful character, as if the rooks were enjoying a pleasant consultation over the events of the world beneath, before retiring to their nightly

rest.

What tranquil and pleasing feelings are called up when these soothing sounds are heard in the happy quietude of some halfpark, half-forest district! An avenue of ancient elms, planted in the time of James I., forms the noble approach to an old manorial residence, the foundation-stones of which can tell us somewhat of the days when the Third Edward brought within the halls of Windsor the chivalry of England. The home of an ancient family is in ruins, gnarled and gigantic ivy-trunks prop the weary walls like faithful adherents of a departed lord, and wild flowers,