wing, but in confinement they are not necessary; larch-buds and green food making the nearest approach to its natural food; bearing in recollection, that for ten months in the year this bird frequents the woods, and approaches the gardens and orchards only when the buds are full of the embryo blossoms. In May, they return to the hedges and sloe-blossoms, and, by a provision of nature, build about June-later than the mere secd-eating birds. Baths and sand wind up this treatment: the latter is absolutely required, as these birds are inclined to grow fat, and are greedy. Quartz has been found in small particles in their crops. Hempseed only to be allowed as a treat-a few grains a week; flax, canary, and rape to form the standard food.

I now begin the more important theme, and having bought the German piping bulfinches, and had instruction from the dealer, I shall give the substance of the lessons received, as also my experience of their efficacy.

The first food given in Germany, where the art of rearing nestlings is understood, is egg and "sweet summer rapeseed:" the seed is steeped in boiling water, and then washed, so that the husk comes off; after this, a very little seed is mixed with the egg, and with this paste the birds are fed every two hours; each succeeding day a little more seed is added to the egg, and thus the bird becomes at last used to the rapeseed.

Their mode of instruction may be acceptable to my readers. "After the birds have been at home four or five days, the teacher whistles to them, three times a day, the tune which they are to learn; and that which they have not learned when February comes, they will never learn at all. About this time they are all sold to the bird-dealers, and by them brought to England, America, and other countries, where they are disposed of at a high price: even in Germany, a good piping bulfinch is sold for eight or ten louis d'or (about nine pounds sterling)."

The great objection to the importation of a number of valuable birds together is, that they are apt to become "confused" in the airs learned, and to take from one another the first or second part of a tune-some of the travellers singing overmuch en route, while others forget the lesson taught; but if the birds have been well instructed, they will resume their own tune or tunes, when separated from the many. At times, a bird can only remember the call-note: a tune may be whistled to it, always in the same key, and liking to sing, and its original tune having been forgotten, it will take to the new one; but it is only the experienced

teachers of Germany who will be able to instruct in a new air. After moulting, these birds are frequently distressed, and others are enraged, because their attempts to sing are abortive in such case, let their health be attended to, and they must be kept warm and quiet, when it is more than probable their voices will come round in a natural way. Any impatience on the part of the possessor will irritate a species that nature, or, what is more likely, training, has made irritable; but when the bird begins his engaging tricks, and looks cheerful, then assistance, by whistling in the same key to which he had been accustomed, may be afforded. It must be remembered that the Germans rear their bulfinches in rooms heated by stoves, and that hoarseness is generally the consequence of their first winter in Britain.

In a single instance I was not successful. My room was not kept sufficiently warm: the bird moulted badly the first season, and forgot his tunes; he partially resumed them in summer, and seemed to be in good health when in my large aviary cage, to which I removed him from his own, for exercise; the second moult he died. I have known these Germans to be in excellent song for years, where windows were seldom opened; and I judge that, being removed from the close rooms of artizans, the first winter is their trial; once acclimatised, they do well. A late authority mentions an instance of a piping bulfinch having lived in a cage twenty years; and the writer (Mr. Thompson) adds, that the age when bought is unknown; but it is easy to know by the feet of a bird, and by other signs, if it be an old one.

Their food should be summer rape, called "sweet summer seed," a little canary, and flax. It is difficult to obtain it: as a substitute, turnip-seed may be given, it is more expensive, but the rape sometimes sold is strong and bitter. But with us there is no seed called summer rape. Not more than five or six grains of hemp weekly, this will be sufficient, and make them tame; they take it off the tongue; also the pips of apples, green food-especially chickweed and salad-apple-blossoms, larch-tops, a cherry, and a fig. The fewer delicacies the better, as these birds are inclined to apoplexy. It is recommended to put a bit of rusty iron in the drinking vessel, if the bird becomes hoarse; also about the size of a nut of manna, given occasionally in the same vehicle, improves the voice. I have never found manna to cure a bird when ill, but it relieves one slightly ailing. For the cure of fits, dip the bird into cold water, and put him then in a warm and quiet

place. For this attack, known by the bird falling down, spreading the wings, and opening the beak, a spider may be afterwards given. Some add "a bit of pork," "a sprig of wormwood," but I did not find the bird picked at either; and as a general remark, I would say that simple remedies only have any chance, beyond them you only increase suffering.

Although this species is supposed to be insectivorous, I have seldom found them to take with the avidity of other loxias a meal-worm or raw meat, both of which are good when ailing. I gave about the size of a nut of bread, upon which cold boiled milk had been poured, at least twice a week, as I made a rule to do to all my birds. One reason is, that it is the best remedy against the huskiness produced by constantly eating dried seeds, and also that I found birds prefer the milk so given to it by itself; and milk being one of our best remedies, birds unaccustomed to take it when in health, will not touch it when ill. I also scrape raw beef, and mix it with the yolk of a hardboiled egg, on which a few drops of water have been poured, and all made into a paste, and given quite fresh, on alternate days, with the above. When this paste (the nightingale's food) was provided, I added a vessel of cold boiled milk-provisions indispensable before and during the season of moulting, and the first winter's trial of our variable climate.

The possessor of a bird who will take an interest in his well-doing, need hardly be reminded to observe if the ailing favourite will take the milk. I have known it prescribed "to withdraw the water vessel." The sufferer sulked, obstinately avoided the milk (perhaps it had become sour), and must have died, if the water had not been replaced; this supports my argument, that it is better to accustom the birds to that which they will really like.

All obstructions in the voice proceed from cold; when the sufferer makes the continual sound of "tjib-tjib,” the Germans use a warm bath, by which I have seen two birds killed; and I believe, as I before tried to impress upon my readers, that all unnatural remedies frighten so delicate a creature, and hasten its death. Again, I advise the prevention of cold, given principally by draughts of air. This bird likes a cheerful cage; I found the bell shape the best, placed in a cheerful and yet warm situation. It may seem strange to say, but it is a fact, that these birds, and others also, require occasional change of air; about the pairing season, I restored one of mine to health by a country visit. Experience has taught me that the early training of the taught bulfinch points

out the necessity of steady care to preserve health and song-little can be done to cure the consequences of neglect. The trained bulfinch is a delightful companion, he bows, hops on the table, sings at command, and is susceptible of the strongest attachment; if slighted, he grieves or sulks, and fits frequently follow a fright. I prefer the bird that has but one tune, for in more than one instance I have known them to forget, or confuse the march and the waltz, that so delighted the hearers in the former season, and two "pipers" in the same room will cause confusion and forgetfulness; in any case, two birds of the same kind should never see each other. A thrush has been known never to have sung because another was present.

The price of a good taught bulfinch is from three to four guineas. There is an indescribable charm in the melody of these pretty beings, and their desire to attract the attention of those they are attached to, and they are exclusive and constant. As I regret that any bird is in confinement, and know that no benevolent feeling will emancipate the whole class; also that foreign birds cannot be given their freedom, I try to make mine feel less of the irksomeness of captivity, by allowing them at times, when perfectly safe from accident, to fly in and out of their cages; it is the careless neglect of persons not closing their doors to shut out the little toddling feet of children, the gaucheries of servants, and the indifference of casual visitors, together with the undesired attentions of grimalkin, that cause so many "fatal ends to favourites." I say less about fireplaces, for, with two exceptions (a nonpareil and a golden oriole), I found that birds, accustomed to leave their cages, avoided the fire; still it is a dangerous practice to neglect placing a guard, or to forget that a large water ewer or basin may lose you your favourite also. When the forms of an early greeting and good will had been gone through, "Pop" (my pet bulfinch) ranged the breakfast-table, and took a bath, cold or tepid, according to season; if I left the room, he watched the door, and prepared his call-note; he hopped to meet me when I entered, and poured forth his airs, looking saucy all the while, for no one else would he sing "at command." I remarked the fondness of these accomplished birds for hats, by which I conclude some association-shall we call it memory?-was connected with early lessons. On one occasion-for I seek all that can take me within the sounds of melody, sweeter to me than that of a prima donna—I saw a ludicrous, and, to the bird-dealer, a rather inconvenient illustration of a piping

bulfinch's fondness for that very ungraceful portion of man's attire. I accompanied a lady to Schinge's rooms, and he had one choice and high-priced bird exhibited the last; this he, with merchant-like acumen, had removed to his family apartment," redolent of onions and German cookery, n'importe, there perched "bully," indifferent to all objectionable

matter, and heedless of fastidiousness as we were, when we encountered his bright black eye, he did not obey the sign (the waving of his master's head), a hempseed offered and accepted, still silent; the poor man looked distressed, but conscious, while, in his broken English, he said the words "confoosed,"

66

sulky." Our anxiety made us look patient and amiable, another trial-there the culprit sat "in dull contented ignorance”—at last, in despair, the owner of the contumacious beauty clapped on his hat, with "dere now," closely resembling poor Hood's "wooden d-n," and, forthwith, after two or three preparatory calls, bully threw himself, con amore, into his three melodies to call them either "flute-like," or "bird-like" sounds, would be to wrong the exquisite sweetness of the notes-the more extraordinary that the natural tone of the bird cannot be called a song. I need scarcely add that, after the extorted confession of this monomania on the part of Der Gimpel oder Dompfaffe, my friend not being a Welshwoman, or an admirer of innovations, and with a prudent conviction that the owner of a hat could not be ever at hand when she desired a waltz from the cage, declined the purchase. I have often thought over this, and several instances of similar associations, with surprise, for the German miner and artizan never has, I believe, adopted any head-covering except a cap.

To prove that the bulfinch is fully entitled, by his docility, his excellent memory, and his social habits, to rank in the collection of the amateur as a first-rate favourite, I give the following anecdotes, illustrative of his just claims to favouritism, premising that the term "piping bulfinch" always means a taught bird. One which a lady (north of the Tay) bought of a German bird-dealer, because of the excellence of its song, was no sooner in her possession than he became entirely mute, and though apparently in perfect health, neither voice nor instrument could induce it to sing. A Hanoverian officer, who happened to be present, whistled several waltzes, but in vain. Bully was still silent; at last the Hanoverian recollected an air he had heard a bird-dealer sing in Germany, and whistling the first bar, the bird instantly finished it.

Another, in Edinburgh, not only sung delightfully, but performed several curious tricks. When its mistress was at work, it flew away with her needle; or if she was writing, it tried to carry off her quill; sometimes a hempseed or two was put into an ivory box, the top being lightly laid on, the bulfinch darted towards it, and dexterously overturning the lid, hovered over the open box, from which he picked out the seed, and flew off without alighting.

I taught mine, also a canary, (and a nonparcil, by means of meal-worms,) to do the same, even taking seed from my half closed hand.

One more instance, and I have done. A lady bought a bulfinch from a French prisoner, the poor exile had painted the cage of his little captive like a prison, and the bird drew up two little buckets, suspended by a gilt chain, one containing seed, and the other water. This bulfinch was extremely tame, and though bred in the woods of Greenilaw, (near Edinburgh,) it whistled a variety of troubadour songs.

I quote the last anecdote, on account of the proof it affords of the teachable nature of this bird, but I enter a protest against training birds with buckets, for reasons which I shall give more fully under the head of the goldfinch.

THE CARDINAL GROSBEAK.

(Loxia Cardinalis)

THE appearance of this beautiful bird is more familiar to our cages than his treatment is understood, which should be simple but varied. Of a brilliant colour and a hardy nature, he is equally desirable as an inmate of an aviary; fierce and destructive to his own species, he never molests even the smallest specimen of any other. The female is of a soft mouse-brown colour, tinged with red, the crest (like that of the male bird) forms a point when raised; she is graceful and lively, and, unlike hen-birds, sings as well as her mate; the notes are softer, but less continuous. The male-bird has been known to evince much jealousy at the vocal powers of his partner, and I have witnessed, with my own pair, serious matrimonial bickerings, requiring a total separation, not only from cages, but from the same room, when at liberty to range about. The Virginia nightingale is of the rare instances of foreign birds pairing in confinement. The late Earl of Derby had a "residence" prepared for these royal visitors, and succeeded in their naturalization. I am also aware of a pair having hatched, and brought out their young in a

large cage, but the tyrant caro destroyed his offspring in a jealous fit. I am not a convert to an opinion lately given, that the cardinal grosbeak would bear the severity of an English winter in a wild state; many reasons tend to support my view of the subject, with which a supply of food has nothing to do. They are not calculated to endure hard weather, being subject to blindness; before rain they crouch down and depress their crests, and their joyous notes pending its descent is no proof that shelter in a comfortable domicile is adverse to their taste. Any one who has studied their habits will also allow, that, pugnacious as our robins, "a broad-gauge" would be required. Their price is at all times high, not being imported in large numbers; however, it is with this prince of captives our true history lies.

Of all birds I consider the cardinal grosbeak to require a roomy cage, and baths daily. The latter as a preventive to parasites, to which it is said they are much subject, and a variety such as I have laid down under the head food. I have known these birds perish, and in great agony, merely from the sameness of their food, and neglect as to clear 'iness and exercise; my birds have a flight in the room daily, but this is not a necessity; I like to see their enjoyment on the wing.

There is a prevailing idea that the lorias hide their food: observation of their habits induces the belief that they do not like eating from the seed-drawer or vessels, but seek about for a place to which to carry their selection. I therefore placed a little square box (like a nest) near a perch, and invariably they remove their choice bits to it, and eat in comfort. They should have fresh soft food daily, and the "paddie" (unshelled rice) is the seed they prefer, but give them but little of it; Indian corn or hempseed, canary and millet, (especially the former,) being less heating. They delight in barley and wheat in the ear; they enjoy all kinds of fruit and grass seeds. My bird is unusually tame; I leave his cage-door open, and he dashes in and out at will (for no other word can express his rapid movement, and he knows his name, "Dot," perfectly well) when he wants sugar, bathes in preference on the table, and is a determined fly-catcher. It is not usual to tame a Virginia nightingale. "Dot" is very happy, carrying his food to his box, discussing grapes and apples, while waiting for the summer fruits. He likes "high places," and is especially fond of the shelter of his half cover at night. At midnight, he sings suddenly and loudly; as summer advances, the song becomes continuous and incessant from dawn of day.

Although these birds moult in autumn, and are supposed to be in song soon after Christmas, I find a good deal depends upon the season; if severe, a huskiness in the throat checks their early notes, nor can they be depended on until April. The conceited air, when before a looking-glass, the raising and depressing of the crest, together with the rolling motion of the body when singing in the sunshine, render these birds most amusing, also most desirable inmates of the cage. I have only observed, in any instance, the ailments which result from mismanagement-want of variety of proper food, want of exercise, and want of sand. When oppresssd by unwholesome treatment, they open their beaks and look sad. I pronounce this loxia to be the king of seed-birds; and a friend, who has one twelve years in good plumage and song, gives him in these days the desirable character of being "the most economical of favourites." One canary eats more than would three red birds. This lady lost hers, and he luxuriated three weeks in a garden, feeding on green peas, A red-coat is a grand provocative to a shot, and the gardener was proceeding to kill, when his master kindly interposed, baited a trap with the favourite food, and returned the wanderer to his happy owners.

The vocal powers of these birds vary considerably, their superiority consisting in the prolongation of the "roll" and "jug," from which musical sounds they derive the distinctive appellation of "nightingales." The repetition of a favourite stanza is their morning practice; and it goes sometimes beyond the bounds of the hearer's patience. The character of this species is that of nonchalance and vivacity; he is not of the gentler kind; woe be to the person daring enough to catch him, or to attempt to pare his nails (a necessary operation); he fixes his beak, and bites through the flesh; and before he has accomplished this revengeful feat, he utters loud and angry cries, sufficient to deter from a Quixotic attempt to better his condition.

My hero, "Dot," had, on one of his days of full liberty, a fancy to sleep outside his cage. I returned home late, threw a handkerchief over him, and placed him in his tenement: he awoke, and screamed loudly. For three days he resented the liberty-by total silence the first, and a cessation of song whenever I entered my sitting-room, where he lived, on the other two. He is amiable when addressed by name, but flutters when strangers approach without this ceremony! These would be considered trivialities in a petted native bird, but

the grosbeaks are not "model" birds in temper; they bear captivity without repining, but mostly retain their wild habits. There is much in kindness to develope disposition, and the Virginia nightingales repay any care. I must repeat that they are most frequently mismanaged.

I find, as with all foreign birds whose health has been preserved, that each additional year in confinement improves their song; the bird of the first year's importation is dependent on the care afforded him for the ensuing period. Seed is but the smaller proportion of their food; therefore heedlessness only can be advanced where fruits, vegetables, and soft food are the staple commodities. The brilliant colour changes by neglect of food and air.

I mentioned to a friend the singular fact, that my Virginia nightingale sung on Christmas-day for the first time after the autumnal moult, and not afterwards until April; and this for three succeeding years. Too polite to express a doubt, this lady could not conceal a look of surprise. The following year, she observed in her own bird the same singular fact. In a very delightful work, On the Passions of Animals, by the late Mr. Thompson, of Belfast, many wonderful details are given, to be accounted for by those very "passions;" but to that just related there is no clue.

A propos to this subject, that of "curiosity" is most remarkable in the cardinals (and I have observed it in most birds). The grosbeak, if nurtured to intelligence, examines all alterations in his food-vessels and perches, the changes of position with reference to the placing of his cage-he even observes the outward aspect of surrounding objects. At the present writing, my "Dot" is in full song by day and night, at a time when other Virginia nightingales are looking abashed at their ragged garments, in this "the silent month." I found my bird, at the ordinary moulting season, drooping too suddenly for this natural process; he had taken cold and was ill. I removed him to a room having on it the morning sun, hung up his cage free from disturbance, administered the remedies already prescribed for the bulfinch and other loxias, with the addition of mealworms, and in a few days" Dot" resumed his melodies, and retained his coat.

The moulting of foreign birds is irregular, being greatly dependant on the period (necessarily unknown to us) when they leave the parent wing-the early or late brood. This simple fact, when unconsidered, causes great perplexity; proper treatment will also prolong the period of song, a desideratum when their resuming it will depend on a mild spring

season.

AFTER the first week of our detention in Salee, my husband began again to manifest symptoms of ague; mental disquiet, confinement, and starvation had done their work, and the horrid disorder had come back. This put the climax to my misery. We petitioned the governor to be allowed to send to the ship for some bark, but received in answer a peremptory order not to attempt to communicate with it on any account. The old despot did not chance to want anything just then. I felt as if I could more readily have pistolled him for that cruel refusal, than I could have performed the same office for Allan Ruberice, in the struggle for liberty. For nine days the poor sufferer did not leave his mattress. Our principal nourishment was now derived from sour black bread, onions, garlic, and turbid water; coffee rarely made its appearance. The heat of the sick chamber was almost suffocating; no

* Concluded from page 147.

breath of fresh air could be coaxed into it; and during the day, from sunrise to sunset, continued confusion, bustle, and noise were around us-constant demands upon me for exhibition; then shouting, bawling, and screaming from the different members of the household; and, between these, interludes of young Judah's vehement treble. I verily believe my spirits could not have borne up against these accumulated sources of wretchedness, had I not cherished the daily thought, that each morning might be the last we should have to endure them.

On the third Friday of our stay in Salee, Samuel Bendenhen came to chat with us. He seemed to think he was promising me a high gratification, when he said I should soon be taken to see the king's wife; adding, that "she was four, and all travelled at once." This puzzling announcement was soon made a little clearer to me by the running commentary-" She is fine thing to see; two is black,