and
made a sack of it to put them into, and his wife did the same with her
petticoat. This must have happened when there was a great flight. Their
numbers now are so decreased that some shepherds do not set up any
coops, as it does not pay for the trouble."

[Sidenote: THE LARK-GLASS]

Although wheatears are no longer caught, the Brighton bird-catcher is a
very busy man. Goldfinches fall in extraordinary plenty to his nets. A
bird-catcher told Mr. Borrer that he once caught eleven dozen of them at
one haul, and in 1860 the annual take at Worthing was 1,154 dozen. Larks
are also caught in great numbers, also with nets, the old system still
practised in France, of luring them with glasses, having become
obsolete. Knox has an interesting description of the lark-glass and its
uses:--"A piece of wood about a foot and a half long, four inches deep,
and three inches wide, is planed off on two sides so as to resemble the
roof of a well-known toy, yclept a Noah's ark, but, more than twice as
long. In the sloping sides are set several bits of looking-glass. A long
iron spindle, the lower end of which is sharp and fixed in the ground,
passes freely through the centre; on this the instrument turns, and even
spins rapidly when a string has been attached and is pulled by the
performer, who generally stands at a distance of fifteen or twenty yards
from the decoy. The reflection of the sun's rays from these little
revolving mirrors seems to possess a mysterious attraction for the
larks, for they descend in great numbers from a considerable height in
the air, hover over the spot, and suffer themselves to be shot at
repeatedly without attempting to leave the field or to continue their
course."

To return to Rottingdean, it was above the village, seven hundred years
ago, that a "sore scrymmysche" occurred between the French and the
Cluniac prior of Lewes. The prior was defeated and captured, but the
nature of his resistance decided the enemy that it was better perhaps to
retreat to their boats. The holy man, although worsted, thus had the
satisfaction of having proved to the King that a Cluniac monk in this
country, was not, as was supposed at court, necessarily on the side of
England's foes, even though they were of his own race.

According to the scheme of this book, we should now return to Brighton;
but, as I have said, the right use to which to put Rottingdean is as the
starting point for a day among the hills. Once out and above