nd the sparrow-hawk did not attempt to carry,
but held on his way. I jumped down and picked up the body of the lark
and the head; the two being entirely disunited. The velocity and force
of the stoop must have been tremendous. I have often seen grouse and
partridges ripped up the back and neck, and the skull laid bare, but I
never saw a head taken clean off before." A sparrow-hawk has been
known to pursue a finch between the legs of a man, and to dash through
a window-pane with the intention of seizing some cage-bird.

"What was that very large bird, papa," said Willy, "that you noticed
near Eyton last November? It was one of the hawk family, was it not?"
Yes; I have no doubt it was the common buzzard, though it would not
allow me to get very near it; but I watched it at a distance for some
time. It would remain on a tree for some time, and then take a slow
flight away, returning again to some tree. Buzzards are not nearly
such active fliers and bold birds as the smaller kinds of hawks.
Though I said it was the common buzzard, you must not suppose that
this bird is really common; it is called common as being the species
most frequently seen in this country. Mr. Yarrell, in his book on
'British Birds,' has given the figure of a buzzard nursing and feeding
a brood of young chickens. Is not that a curious thing?

He says, "The extreme partiality of the common buzzard to the seasonal
task of incubation and rearing young birds has been exemplified in
various instances. A few years back, a female buzzard, kept in the
garden of the Chequers Inn, at Uxbridge, showed an inclination to sit
by collecting and bending all the loose sticks she could gain
possession of. Her owner, noticing her actions, supplied her with
materials. She completed her nest and sat on two hens' eggs, which she
hatched, and afterwards reared the young. Since then she has hatched
and brought up a brood of chickens every year.

"She indicates her desire to sit by scratching holes in the ground,
and breaking and tearing everything within her reach. One summer, in
order to save her the fatigue of sitting, some young chickens just
hatched were put down to her, but she destroyed the whole. Her
family, in June, 1839, consisted of nine, the original number was ten,
but one had been lost. When flesh was given to her, she was very
assiduous in tearing and offering it as food to her nurselings, and
appeared uneasy if, after taking small portions from her, they turn