In spite of his evil reputation, the magpie is regarded by most persons who are not breeders of pheasants with exceptional interest, and even affection. He has some very attractive qualities, and is one of that trio of corvine birds--pie, chough, and jay--from which it is difficult to single out the most beautiful. The most conspicuous he undoubtedly is, in his black and white plumage; and his figure, with its long, graduated tail, is also the most elegant. In his habits there is abundant variety, and in sagacity he is probably unsurpassed by any member of the corvine family, which counts so many wily brains. His excessive cunning and rapid rate of increase have probably served to save him from the fate that has overtaken the hen harrier and marsh-harrier, and many another beautiful member of the British avifauna. As it is, he has been almost extirpated throughout a large part of England and Scotland. In Ireland, however, he is still a common species, but, oddly enough, he is not indigenous to that country. It is believed that he first appeared there about, or a little more than, two centuries and a half ago. How he got there is not known. According to Yarrell, there is a widespread belief in Ireland that the magpie was imported into that island by the English out of spite. [Illustration: FIG. 55.--MAGPIE. ⅑ natural size.] The magpie is as singular in his motions, gestures, and flight as he is beautiful in colour and elegant in form. On the wing he appears most conspicuous when the white webs of the quills are displayed. The wings are very short, and the flight is slow and somewhat wavering, and at every three or four yards there is an interval of violent wing-beats, during which the black and white of the quills mix and become nearly grey. High in the air he has a most curious appearance; as a rule he flies low, passing from tree to tree, or along the side of a hedge. He seeks his food on the ground, and his movements are then utterly unlike those of any other ground-feeder. His manner of running and hopping about, flinging up his tail; his antics and little, excited dashes, now to this side, now to that, give the idea that he is amusing himself with some solitary game rather than seeking food. Richard Jefferies has given so accurate and vivid a picture of the bird in his ‘Wild Life in a Southern County’ that I cannot refrain from quoting it in this place. ‘To this hedge the hill-magpie comes; some magpies seem to keep entirely to the downs, while others range the vale, though there is no apparent difference between them. His peculiar uneven, and, so to say, flickering flight marks him out at a distance, as he jauntily journeys along beside the slope. He visits every fir-copse and beech-clump in his way, spending some time, too, in and about the hawthorn hedge, which is a favourite spot. Sometimes in the spring, when the corn is yet short and green, if you glance carefully through