n the one hand, it seems undeniable that the
rook eats grain and potato shoots. It also snaps young twigs off the
trees and may, like the jay and magpie, destroy the eggs of game birds.
On the other hand, particularly during the weeks when it is feeding its
nestlings, it admittedly devours quantities of wireworms, leathergrubs,
and weevils, as well as of couch grass and other noxious weeds, while
some of its favourite dainties, such as thistles, walnuts, and acorns,
will hardly be grudged at any time. It is not an easy matter to decide;
and, if the rook is to be spared, economy must be tempered with
sentiment, in which case the evidence will perhaps be found to justify a
verdict of guilty, with a strong recommendation to mercy.

MAY

THE CUCKOO

THE CUCKOO

With the single exception of the nightingale, bird of lovers, no other
has been more written of in prose or verse than the so-called "harbinger
of spring." This is a foolish name for a visitor that does not reach our
shores before, at any rate, the middle of April. Even _Whitaker_ allows
us to recognise the coming of spring nearly a month earlier; and for
myself, impatient if only for the illusion of Nature's awakening, I date
my spring from the ending of the shortest day. Once the days begin to
lengthen, it is time to glance at the elms for the return of the rooks
and to get out one's fishing-tackle again. Yet the cuckoo comes rarely
before the third week of April, save in the fervent imagination of
premature heralds, who, giving rein to a fancy winged by desire, or
honestly deceived by some village cuckoo clock heard on their country
rambles, solemnly write to the papers announcing the inevitable March
cuckoo. They know better in the Channel Islands, for in the second week
of April, and not before, there are cuckoos in every bush--hundreds of
exhausted travellers pausing for strength to complete the rest of their
journey to Britain. Not on the return migration in August do the
wanderers assemble in the islands, since, having but lately set out,
they are not yet weary enough to need the rest. The only district of
England in which I have heard of similar gatherings of cuckoos is East
Anglia, where, about the time of their arrival, they regularly collect
in the bushes and indulge in preliminary gambols before flying north and
west.

Cuckoos, then, reach these islands about the third week of April, and
they leave us again at the end of the summer, t