vote, which, it must be admitted, is perfectly proper and correct. Early in the spring of 1827, it happened that a bird had been lost from a cage, at the residence of a gentleman in Exmouth. The cage was still left hanging up, with its door open, in the passage entrance to a back court, and the seed left by the late inhabitant still remained in the trough. One morning, it seems that a female goldfinch, looking out for a nestling place, saw and admired the little wire-bound mansion hanging between earth and sky: she entered it and fed freely on the seeds: the door was closed on her; but as it was perceived she was a hen bird, she was afterwards liberated. She then flew away, and the owner of the cage had no idea of ever seeing her again: in about two hours, however, she returned, again entered the cage, and fed as freely as before, was again shut in, and again liberated. These visits she repeated daily for a considerable time; she was then missing for several days, and her entertainers began to think she had taken her final leave of the cage. At length she once more made her appearance, accompanied by a male bird; she entered as usual, fed on the seeds, and seemed to invite her companion to enter also; but he was of a less confiding nature, and warily declined the invitation. Perched on the outside of the cage, he inspected it through the grating, and the examination evidently confirmed him in his suspicions, as he finally flew off to a neighbouring tree, and waited there till his lady companion chose to rejoin him ; they then disappeared together, and were thought of no more. Nearly two months had passed away when the hen goldfinch again made her appearance. During that lapse of time she had been busily employed, had built her nest, laid her eggs, and hatched and reared her young. These particulars of her history were fairly surmised from the present state of her affairs: now she came, not attended by a male bird, but by four young birds, evidently her own brood. entered the cage as before, and fed on the seeds, inviting her companions, by her example, to do the same; but they had inherited the wary temper of their sire, and prudently kept on the safe side of the airy pavilion. The mother bird continued to feed awhile on the seeds; but finding she could not induce her young ones to share her chosen mansion with her, she eventually abandoned it, and took her flight to return no more: doubtless she cast "Many a longing, lingering look behind." She Whether so blithe a creature could breathe a sigh of regret as she relinquished her fondly cherished wish, we do not undertake to determine. The song of the goldfinch has been fancifully supposed to resemble the words, "Take me with you if you please," chaunted in recitative, with a strong emphasis on the first and fifth words in the sentence. THE SONG OF THE GOLDFINCH. Take me with you if you please, I love the orchard's sheltering trees, I love the woods and meadows too, I sip with them the morning dew, ORDER PASSERES. The Bullfinch. Loxia pyrrhula.—LINN. A THIS little bird, whose figure and colouring is too well known to require description, is one of the brightest plumaged natives of our woods. fine bullfinch, in full feather, is really a very handsome little creature; and in addition to his attractive appearance, he has a teachable nature, which makes him but too desirable a prize for the bird-catcher. His native note is very simple; but he may be taught to whistle a variety of tunes. Bewick says, that these birds are frequently imported into this country from Germany, where they are taught to articulate several words with great distinctness. The bullfinch, like the robin, only migrates in winter from his summer haunts in wood and thicket, to approach nearer to the habitations of man, and feed on the seeds and berries he finds on cultivated ground. In the spring he may be seen busily pecking at the buds of our fruit-trees; and multitudes are destroyed by the gardener, |