This brutal practice on Shrove Tuesday is still conspicuous in several parts of the kingdom. Brand affirms that it was retained in many schools in Scotland within the last century, and he conjectures “perhaps it is still in use:” a little inquiry on his part would have discovered it in English schools. He proceeds to observe, that the Scotch schoolmasters “were said to have presided at the battle, and claimed the run-away cocks, called fugees, as their perquisites.” To show the ancient legitimacy of the usage, he instances a petition in 1355, from the scholars of the school of Ramera to their schoolmaster, for a cock he owed them upon Shrove Tuesday, to throw sticks at, according to the usual custom for their sport and entertainment. No decently circumstanced person however rugged his disposition, from neglect in his childhood, will in our times permit one of his sons to take part in the sport. This is a natural consequence of the influence which persons in the higher ranks of life can beneficially exercise. Country gentlemen threw at the poor cock formerly: there is not a country gentleman now who would not discourage the shocking usage. Strutt says that in some places, it was a common practice to put a cock into an earthen vessel made for the purpose, and to place him in such a position that his head and tail might be exposed to view; the vessel, with the bird in it, was then suspended across the street, about 12 or 14 feet from the ground, to be thrown at by such as chose to make trial of their skill; twopence was paid for four throws, and he who broke the pot, and delivered the cock from his confinement, had him for a reward. At North Walsham, in Norfolk, about 60 years ago, some wags put an owl into one of these vessels; and having procured the head and tail of a dead cock, they placed them in the same position as if they had appertained to a living one; the deception was successful; and at last, a labouring man belonging to the town, after several fruitless attempts, broke the pot, but missed his prize; for the owl being set at liberty, instantly flew away, to his great astonishment, and left him nothing more than the head and tail of the dead bird, with the potsherds, for his money and his trouble; this ridiculous adventure exposed him to the continual laughter of the town’s people, and obliged him to quit the place. _Shying at Leaden Cocks._ A correspondent, S. W., says, “It strikes me that the game of pitching at capons, practised by boys when I was young, took its rise from this sport, (the throwing at cocks,) indulged in by the matured barbarians. The capons were leaden representations of cocks and hens pitched at by leaden dumps.”