Because of the great quantity of chips which it makes. This bird, and the order to which it belongs, are termed peckers, and have a very remarkable structure of the tongue, consisting of two long cartilages, which are placed iminediately under the skin, running from behind forwards over the skull, and terminating at the forehead near the root of the bill. These cartilages, are like springs, by means of which the bird can more readily protrude its worm-shaped tongue, and transfix insects with its horny point. Blumenbach. THE KINGFISHER. Why is the term halcyon used figuratively for quiet? Because the halcyon or kingfisher was feigned by the poets to breed in the sea, and that there was always a calm during her incubation. As firm as the rock, and as calm as the flood, THE DOTTREL. Why is the dottrel every year becoming more and more scarce in the vicinity of Keswick? Because some parts of its plumage are in very great request by the manufacturers of artificial flies for fishing, which accounts for their being pursued and killed in such numbers. ROOKS. Why is the rook one of the earliest birds? Because its principal food is worms, which feed and crawl upon the humid surface of the ground in the dusk, and retire before the light of day; and, roosting higher than other birds, the first rays of the sun, as they peep from the horizon, become visible to it. Knapp. Why do rooks sometimes appear to be falling to the ground? Because they are scratching themselves with one foot, and thus lose their centre of gravity. — G. White. Why is a flock of rooks so frequently attended by a train of starlings? Because rooks have a more discerning scent than starlings, and can lead them to spots more productive of food. Anatomists say that rooks, by reason of two large nerves which run down between the eyes into the upper mandible, have a more delicate feeling than other round-billed birds, and can grope for their meat when out of sight. Perhaps, then, their associates attend them from interest, as greyhounds wait on the motions of their finders, and as lions are said to do on the yelpings of jackals. — G. White. Why are rooks' eggs prized? Because,though bearing little resemblance to those of the plover, they are, in some places, not uncommonly taken, and sold as plover's eggs in the London market; and, probably, the habitual eater of them can alone distinguish a sensible difference. Why are rooks less abundant than formerly? Because their haunts have been disturbed by the felling of trees, in consequence of the increased value of timber, and the changes in our manners and ideas. Rooks love to build near the habitation of man; but their delight, the long avenue, is no longer the fashion; and the poor birds have been dispersed to settle on single distant trees, or in the copse, and are captured and persecuted. In many counties, very few rookeries remain, where once they were considered as a necessary appendage, and regularly pointed out the abbey, the hall, the court-house, and the grange. Knapp. The following anecdote of the rook is related in the Zoological Journal, and inerits introduction here, for the excellent lesson it affords to man. tleman occupied a farm in Essex, where he had not A gen long resided, before numerous rooks built their nests on the trees surrounding his premises; the rookery was much prized; the farmer, however, being induced to hire a larger farm about three quarters of a mile distant, he left the farin and the rookery; but, to his great surprise and pleasure, the whole rookery deserted their former habitation, and came to the new one of their old master. It ought to be added, that this gentleman was strongly attached to all animals whatsoever, and, of course, used them kindly.' Why is a hot summer fatal to rooks? Because their food, grubs, insects, and worms, is then mostly hidden in the earth beyond their reach. At this time, were it not for its breakfast of dewworms, which it catches in the gray of the morning, as it is appointed the earliest of risers, it would commonly be famished. In the hot summer of 1825, many of the young brood of the season perished from want; the mornings were without dew, and consequently few or no worms were to be obtained. - Knapp. RAVENS. Why is the raven most common on the shores of har-bours, or near great rivers? Because animal substances, its food, are more frequently to be met with there, than in inland places. In Greenland and Iceland, where putrescent fishy substances abound, they appear to be almost domesticated. Why is the raven one of the chosen birds of superstition? Because of its supposed longevity, its frequent mention and agency in holy writ; the obscure knowledge we possess of its powers and motives; and the gravity of its deportment, like an 'all-knowing bird,' which has acquired for it, from very_remote periods, the veneration of mankind. The changes in our manners and ideas, in respect to many things, have certainly deprived them of much of this reverence; yet the almost supernatural information which they obtain of the decease, or approaching dissolution, of an animal, claims still some admiration for them. This supposed faculty of smelling death' formerly rendered their presence, or even their voice, ominous to all, as The hateful messenger of heavy things, Of death and dolour telling; and their unusual harsh croak, still, when illness is in the house, with some timid and affectionate persons, brings old fancies to remembrance, savouring of terror and alarm. Knapp. The poets have highly embellished this superstition: Drayton says: The greedy raven, that doth call for death. and quotes Pliny for his authority. Shakspeare That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Macbeth. And shunthe Spirit's Blasted Tree.'- Marmion — in the notes to the sixth canto of which are the following lines in a poem by the Rev. George Warrington, entitled 'the Spirit's Blasted Tree." Three ravens gave the note of death As through mid air they wing'd their way; They croak-they scent their destined prey. Ill omen'd bird! as legends say, Who hast the wondrous power to know, Again, Sir Walter Scott: Seems he not Malice, like a ghost That, watching while the deer is broke, Lady of the Lake |