IT is somewhat singular that notwithstanding the great rage for grouse shooting that has set in, the black cock should remain the heath bird of literature, the former holding the same position to the latter as the trout holds to the salmon. Scott in h...
IT is somewhat singular that notwithstanding the great rage for grouse shooting that has set in, the black cock should remain the heath bird of literature, the former holding the same position to the latter as the trout holds to the salmon. Scott in his poems talks about the "black cock pluming its jetty wing," and I think it is Baron Bradwardine who sings, And if up a bonnie black cock should spring I whistle him down wi' a slug in his wing.