COUNTRY LIFE
OYSTER-CATCHERS are birds of the tide-line. Their " deep, deep " cry is familiar there. When I heard the cry while walking along the lane I was puzzled. It came from a garden, but it was the cry of the Sca Pie without doubt. After a little neck-stretching I saw the great wire cage that held him. He toddled about there with two Chinese pheasants for company, but looking a little sad. Above, some dusky homing pigeons peered down at him' from the chimney-stack. They were free to go when they liked, but this poor creature would not hear the sighing of the in-running tide. Indeed, it turns out that he has never heard it. His owner found an egg on the shore, brought it home and hatched it under another " pet." ,. The cry touches me, none the less. He is a long way from the sea, and the man who bred him should put him where he belongs, bustling along the mounds of wrack, as spry as any bird that feeds there.
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