FOOTNOTES:
[1] See reasons for doubting this conclusion in Professor Rennie’s Domestic Habits of Birds, Chap. xvii.—Translator.
[2] This previous recording, as it is termed, is not uniform. Mr. Blyth informs as that he had, in the year 1833, a blackcap which struck up all at once into a loud song.—Translator.
[3] Phil. Trans. vol. lxiii. 1773.
[4] Besides, we cannot say that there is a want of variety in this music. I may again quote Mr. Barington (Phil. Trans.): “The death of the male parent, just at the time his instructions were required, will occasion some variety in the song of the young ones, who will thus have their attention directed to other birds, which they will imitate or modify according to the conformation of their larynx; and they will thus create new variations, which will afterwards be imitated by their young ones, and become hereditary, until a circumstance of a similar nature may introduce greater variations. If care was taken there need not be two birds that sung exactly alike: however, these varieties are confined within certain limits.”—Translator.
[5] If pine and fir branches cannot be obtained, oak, elm, or beech will do, cut in winter; though not green, yet there will be leaves.—Translator.
[6] This perhaps depends on the peculiar forms of the bills more than on inclination, for the fauvette and blackcap often attempt to clean their feet without success.—Translator.
[7] See Rennie’s “Faculties of Birds,” Chap. V., for experiments on the subject.—Translator.
[8] The reason of this union of vegetable and animal food may be easily seen; the bread supplies the seed for the birds of the first class, and the milk the insects for those of the second, while the third and fourth here find their mixed food; and thus it ought to agree with all. Besides, the birds of the first class do not confine themselves exclusively to seeds; in their wild state they eat many insects, and some even feed their young entirely with them; this proves that animal food is sometimes useful and beneficial to them.—Translator.
[9] If a rather large, flat, and not very deep vessel be used, in which the birds can bathe at their ease, it will make them more healthy and clean.—Translator.
[10] White’s Selborne, 8vo. edit. 1833.
[11] See Rennie’s “Habits of Birds,” p. 13.—Transl.
[12] This, though the common opinion, seems incorrect. See Rennie’s “Habits of Birds,” p. 4.—Translator.
[13] There are varieties in this species: that with the head grey is rare, but when quite white is still more so.—Translator.
[14] It is rare in Britain.—Translator.
[15] It is not a native of Britain.—Translator.
[16] Perhaps from not having been given now and then feathers, the fur and skin of animals, or even beetles, to cleanse the stomach.—Translator.
[17] It is doubtful as a native of Britain.—Translator.
[18] The rook, (Corvus frugilegus, Linnæus,) seems here to be confounded with the carrion crow. I say nothing about this species, as I have never heard of one being tamed or instructed. It is about the size of the carrion crow, and chiefly differs from it in the base of the beak being naked, and having a rough scabrous skin.—Translator.
[19] It appears that in its course from Sweden to Algiers it does not range beyond a degree in longitude, and is rarely found in Britain. Few birds of this group, as far as has hitherto been observed, wander to the right or left during their migration. The roller frequents shady and solitary woods, and its character is well adapted to them.—Translator.
[20] I once saw one of these birds drink, after swallowing dry ants’ eggs; it then eat greedily of lettuce and endive. Another, which I kept, liked the outside of lettuces and spinach after having eaten insects, especially beetles, which are very heating. To judge from what I have observed, the roller is by nature wild and solitary; it seldom changes its situation, except to seek its food or to hide itself from strangers. It is a good thing, whether kept in a cage or let range, always to have a box in its way, in which it may take refuge when frightened; it will not fail to hide itself there, and by this means will not be tempted to beat itself violently, which it does when it cannot fly from the object of its fright. It knows its mistress very well, lets her take it up, comes near her, and sits without any fear on her knees for whole hours without stirring. This is as far as it goes even when tamed. It is neither caressing nor familiar; when frightened it utters harsh cries, softer ones when its food is brought, but “crag, crag, craag,” at the same time raising its head, is the expression of its joy or triumph.—Translator.
[21] It is rarely found in Britain.—Translator.
[22] These young birds like to wash; but it is dangerous for them to have the water too cold, or to let them remain too long in it, as cramp in the feet may be the consequence. In one which we possessed, the accident was more vexatious as the bird was otherwise in good health, having followed the above mentioned diet.—Translator.
[23] The natural song is very like the awkward attempts of a country boy with a bad musical ear to whistle the notes of the missel thrush.—Translator.
[24] It is not common in Britain.—Translator.
[25] It may be added that it also walks very gracefully.—Translator.
[26] It appears that the Psittacus Ludovicianus, Linnæus, Perruche à tête aurore, Buffon, is the same species.
[27] I have, however, seen a woodpecker of this species which was reared by a lady, to whom it seemed very much attached. It had learnt of itself to go and return, knocking hard at the window if it was shut out. It was very amusing to see it climbing nimbly over its mistress till it had reached her mouth; it then asked her by light strokes of its beak for the food which she was accustomed to give it; this was generally a little meat. It disappeared one day, without any one’s knowing what accident had befallen it.—Translator.
[28] A bird of this species, which had been accidentally winged by a sportsman, was kept in a small cage of plain oak wood and wire. During a night and a day that his confinement lasted, his tapping labour was incessant; and after occupying his prison for that short space, he left the wood-work pierced and worn like worm-eaten timber. His impatience at his situation was excessive; his efforts to escape were unremitted, and displayed much intelligence and cunning. He was fierce, fearlessly familiar, and voracious of the food placed before him. At the close of the second day he sunk under the combined effects of his vexation, assiduity, and voracity. His hammering was peculiarly laborious, for he did not peck as other birds do, but grasping hold with his immense feet, he turned upon them as a pivot, and struck with the whole weight of his body, thus assuming the appearance, with his entire form, of the head of a hammer, or, as birds may sometimes be seen to do on mechanical clocks, made to strike the hour by swinging on a wheel. The Rev. W. T. Bree, of Allesley, says, that having caught a nuthatch in the common brick trap used by boys, he was struck with the singular appearance of its bill, so unlike that of any bird he had ever seen. It was blunt at the end, and presented the appearance of having been truncated in an oblique direction, as if the natural beak had been cut off. He naturally inferred that it had been fairly ground down to about two-thirds of its original length, by the bird’s pecking at the bricks, in its efforts to escape from the trap.—Translator.
[29] The parrot crossbill is a very different species, but is rare.—Translator.
[30] The too great heat has doubtless also something to do with it.—Translator.
[31] However difficult this pairing may be, it sometimes succeeds very well. A bullfinch and female canary once produced five young ones, which died on a journey which they could not bear. Their large beak, and the blackish down with which they were covered, showed that they were more like their father than mother.—Translator.
[32] I do not recommend the employment of bird organs for instructing birds, because they are rarely accurate, and their notes are harsh and discordant; for bullfinches repeat the sounds exactly as they hear them, whether harsh or false, according to the instrument used. The good and pure whistling of a man of taste is far preferable; the bird repeats it in a soft, flute-like tone. When one cannot whistle well it is better to use a flageolet.—Translator.
[33] Mr. Thiem, son of the Mr. Thiem in the text, arrives annually in London in April or May, with birds for sale.—Translator.
[34] It is not found in Britain.—Translator.
[35] Those occasionally caught in the South of England may be purchased in London at about 7s.—Translator.
[36] See “Architecture of Birds,” page 265.
[37] The want of a bathing place in the narrow cages where these unhappy prisoners are kept is the true cause of this disease.
[38] A good deal of imagination may be supposed to be put forth in the translation of the song of these birds. An Englishman, a Frenchman, or an Italian would discover in it words in their own language which might express very different sounds. We shall not see with less pleasure here details that are entirely omitted in other works on birds. Some will admire, however far it may go, an ear exercised in discovering the shades, niceties, and, in fact, the beauties that delight it, whilst another would be scarcely struck with any difference. Strangers will no longer be surprised at the excessive passion these birds excite where they are studied with so much care. In England they are very little prized, and but seldom kept.—Translator.
[39] Literally, “to go to the wine;” pronounced vine-gay.—Translator.
[40] Ruhl is a large manufacturing village in Thuringia, the inhabitants of which, mostly cutlers, have such a passion for chaffinches that some have gone ninety miles from home to take with bird-lime one of these birds distinguished by its song, and have given one of their cows for a fine songster; from which has arisen their common expression, such a chaffinch is worth a cow. A common workman will give a louis d’dr (sixteen shillings) for a chaffinch he admires, and willingly live on bread and water to gain the money. An amateur cannot hear one that sings in a superior style the double trill of the Hartz without being in an ecstasy. I have heard them say that one which sings this melody perfectly certainly can converse, from its pronouncing the syllables so distinctly.—Author.
[41] Längsfeld, where this song was first discovered, is a large town in the district of Fulda, situated a short distance from the Werra, which at Munden takes the name of Weser, after its junction with the Fulda.—Author.
[42] It is only eight years since this song was accidentally produced. A shoemaker of Iambach had given a chaffinch that sung the double trill five young scholars, one of which struck out for itself this peculiar warbling. From this others were taught, so that amateurs may have the pleasure of hearing at home a song that is now in fashion, and pleases many amateurs.
[43] The notes of the wild chaffinches in this country are finer than any cage ones I have heard in Germany.—Translator.
[44] The destruction of the sparrows has been so great an evil in the countries where the government had ordered it, that it has been found necessary to rescind the order. The injury they do to the corn is something certainly, but it may be exaggerated, besides, ought not these useful creatures to be paid?—Translator.
[45] It is known from experience that winter rape seed, which is not hurtful to them in a wild state, will soon kill them if they are fed on it in the house.—Author.
[46] We read in Buffon, that the Goldfinch feeds its young with caterpillars; this is not natural to the species, since we find farther on, that the parent birds disgorge the food into the crop of their little ones, and do not merely place it in the beak as those birds do that feed their young on caterpillars and other insects.—Translator.
[47] This is a mistake. See Architecture of Birds, p. 268.
[48] After having shown the skill and docility of the goldfinch, we cannot end our praise of the bird better than by giving an instance of his attachment. Mad. —— had one that never saw her go out without making every effort in his power to quit his cage and follow her, and welcomed her return with every mark of extreme delight; as soon as she approached, a thousand little actions showed his pleasure and satisfaction: if she presented her finger, he caressed it a long time, uttering a low joyous murmur. This attachment was so exclusive that if his mistress, to prove it, substituted another person’s finger for her own, he would peck it sharply, whilst one of his mistress’s, placed between two of this person’n, would be immediately distinguished, and caressed accordingly.—Translator.
[49] It only comes to England during winter.—Translator.
[50] It is not so often of epilepsy, and fat, that male birds die, as for the want of pairing. Perhaps this may be increased, thoughtlessly, by too heating and too succulent food. However this may be, if a male that has died thus in spring be dissected, its reproductive organs will be found exceedingly swelled. It can only be preserved by giving at the time refreshing and moderate food. Boiled bread and milk is very useful.—Translator.
[51] They are not natives of Britain.—Translator.
[52] They are not natives of Britain.—Translator.
[53] I have observed, says Adanson, that the canary which becomes white in France is, at Teneriffe, of a grey, almost as dark as that of the linnet.—Author.
[54] It is a mistaken idea that the difference of colour in canaries depends on the difference of food. The wild birds vary much more than the domestic, yet their food is more uniform. The being domesticated, the want of exercise and natural food united, may occasion an alteration in the colours of the plumage. My birds have only very simple food, and yet they are not the less of various colours.—Author.
[55] This practice is not according to nature, which we can rarely oppose without inconvenience. “This plan causes the mother a greater loss of heat, and burdens her at once with five or six little ones, which coming together, disturb rather than please her; whilst in seeing them hatched successively one after the other, her pleasure is increased and supports her strength and courage. Very intelligent bird-fanciers assure us, that by not removing the eggs from the female, and leaving them to be hatched in succession, they have always succeeded better than when substituting ivory eggs.” Buffon.—Translator.
[56] It sometimes happens in very dry seasons that the feathers of the young birds cannot develop naturally; a bath of tepid water employed on such an occasion by Madame * * * was so successful that I cannot do better than recommend it. The same lady succeeded equally well in similar circumstances in hatching late eggs; she plunged them for some minutes in water heated to the degree of incubation, and immediately replaced them under the mother; in a short time she enjoyed the pleasure of seeing the little ones make their appearance. This interesting experiment may be applied to all sorts of birds, and may be particularly useful in regard to those of the poultry yard.—Translator.
[57] Green birds, bullfinches, and even chaffinches, yellowhammers, and the like, have been tried; but the difficulty augments with the difference of species and food: for example, I have never seen a male canary very fond of a female yellowhammer, nor a male of the latter kind of a female canary, though the plumage may be selected so as to offer a striking resemblance. An ardent bullfinch will sometimes yield to the allurements of a very ardent hen canary. I have myself witnessed it; but with every care, it is seldom that the eggs prove fruitful, and produce young. Dr. Jassy, however, writes me from Frankfort, that he has obtained mules of a bullfinch and canary, by making other canaries sit on the eggs and bring up the young; and that this plan is pursued in Bohemia. A tufted or crested female should never be chosen, because this ornament is very unbecoming to the large head of a mule. “My bullfinch,” he adds, “is so attached to the female canary that he mourns all the time they are separated, and cannot bear any other bird.”
I possess a nightingale which, having been for a long time shut up with a female canary, lives very sociably with her, and sings as usual; indeed, he was so ardent in the spring, that he paired with her in my presence, but the eggs were unproductive. I shall try next spring, if the same thing happens, to give the eggs to another sitter.—Author.
[58] Some do this naturally, others are taught it in their youth, by covering the cage and keeping them in the dark during the day, long enough for them to be hungry; they are thus forced to eat by candle-light. Gradually they become accustomed to this, and at last sing.—Author.
[59] Nothing is more delightful than to hear them imitate the song of the nightingale; I prefer those which have this talent, and I never fail to possess one.—Author.
[60] In Britain it is partly migratory and partly stationary.—Translator.
[61] If it is difficult to induce larks to sit, it appears to be very easy to make them take care of a young brood.
“The instinct,” says Buffon, “which induces hen larks to bring up and watch over a brood appears sometimes very early, even before that which disposes them to become mothers, and which, in the order of nature, ought, it would seem, to precede it.
“In the month of May, a young lark was brought to me which could not feed itself; I fed it, and it could hardly peck up, when a brood of four young ones of the same species was brought to me from another place. She exhibited a singular affection for these new comers, which were not much younger than herself; she nursed them day and night, warmed them under her wings, and pushed the food into their mouths with her beak; nothing could distract her from these interesting duties. If she was removed from the young ones, she flew back to them as soon as she was free, without ever thinking of escaping, as she might have done a hundred times. Her affection increased so much that she literally forgot to eat and drink; and she lived only on the food which was given to her as well as to her adopted young, and she died at length, consumed by this sort of maternal passion. None of the young survived her, they died one after the other, so necessary had her maternal cares become to them; so entirely were these cares produced by affection, and reciprocated.”
This, it appears, is more than could be said of the persons who had the care of these unfortunate little birds.—Translator.
[62] They are not natives of Britain.—Translator.
[63] I possessed a fine one which died from lice.—Translator.
[64] I saw a colony of starlings established on this plan at an inn at Leyden.—Translator.
[65] In England it continues throughout the year.—Translator.
[66] Bathing may prevent the first; boiled bread and milk administered seasonably relieves, and even entirely cures, the other.—Translator.
[67] In Britain they remain all the year.—Translator.
[68] I have seen the nest in Scotland.—Translator.
[69] It occurs on the Rhine at Ehrenbreitzen, and I have seen it on the Siebengebirge.—Translator.
[70] I purchased two at Coblentz, which lived some time in England. Individuals have been sold in London for seven pounds.—Translator.
[71] It is not found in Britain.—Translator.
[72] The food of the caged nightingale is probably not sufficiently nutritious for the reed thrush; no doubt, also, it injures the stomach; perhaps the number of meal-worms with which it is supplied should be increased; and small beetles should be offered to it, whose wing-cases and claws, not being digested by the insectivorous bird, serve to purge the stomach; its food, in short, should resemble as much as possible that of its natural condition.—Translator.
[73] There are some countries which appear not adapted for nightingales, and in which they never stop, as in France, in Le Bugey, as high as Nantua, a part of Holland, North Wales, the north of England, excepting the county of York, and all Scotland and Ireland.
[74] In Italy they arrive in March, and depart in the beginning of November. In England they arrive in April and May, and depart in the month of September.
[75] The means of always having a plentiful supply of meal worms is to fill a large earthenware or brown stone jar with wheat bran, barley or oatmeal, and put into it some pieces of sugar paper or old shoe leather. Into each of these jars, of about two quarts in size, half a pint of meal worms is thrown (these may be bought at any baker’s or miller’r), and by leaving them quiet for three months, covered with a bit of woollen cloth soaked in beer, or merely in water, they will change into beetles (Tenebrio Molitor, Linnæus). These insects soon propagate by eggs, which renew and increase the number of maggots so much that one such jar will maintain a nightingale.—Author.
[76] Many persons who are not in a situation to buy ants’ eggs (improperly so called, since they are the pupæ in their cocoons), will doubtless be glad to know the method used for getting them out of the ant-hill. A fine sunny day in summer is chosen, and, provided with a shovel we begin by gently uncovering a nest of the large wood ants (Formica rufa, Linnæus), till we arrive at the eggs; these are then taken away, and placed in the sun, in the middle of a cloth whose corners are turned up over little branches well covered with leaves. The ants, in order to protect the eggs from the heat of the sun, quickly remove them under the shelter which is prepared for them. In this manner they are easily obtained freed from dirt, and from the ants also. In the absence of a cloth a smooth place is chosen, around which some small furrows are cut, over which the branches are laid, which leads to the same result.—Author.
[77] English bird-catchers also express the phrases of the nightingale by words, or particular names, sweet, jug, sweet, pipe rattle, swetswat, swaty, water bubble, skeg, skeg, whitlow, whitlow, and the like.
[78] I possess a nightingale which repeats these drawling melancholy notes often thirty or even fifty times. Many pronounce gu, guy, gui, and others qu, quy, qui.—Author.
[79] These syllables are pronounced in a sharper clearer manner than the preceding lu, lu, &c.
[80] However difficult, or even impossible, it may be to express this song upon an instrument (excepting, however, the jay call, made of tin, on which is placed a piece of birch cut in a cross, and which is held between the tongue and the palate), yet it is very true that the accompaniment of a good piano produces the most agreeable effect.—Author.
[81] We must not confound true nocturnal nightingales with those which are called mopers. A true nocturnal sings from night to morning without stopping, while a moper sings only at intervals, unconnectedly, and always makes pauses of some minutes between each strain. All nightingales become mopers when they reach five or six years of age; whence arises the mistake of many persons, who think they possess a nocturnal when they have really only a moper. The reverse happens sometimes, also; for a true nocturnal bird, caught such, often loses his power after one or two years of captivity, and is then a mere moper.—Author.
[82] It must, however, be owned, that of twenty young nightingales bred from the nest scarcely one succeeds in all respects. They seldom possess their natural song in its purity; they almost invariably introduce, in spite of all their instruction, foreign and disagreeable tones. The young which are caught in the month of August, before their departure, are the best; they have already learnt their father’s song, and they perfect it the following spring, if they are placed beside a good singer.—Author.
[83] “A nightingale which I had given away,” says M. Le Manie, “no longer seeing his mistress, left off eating, and was soon reduced to the last gasp; he could not support himself on his perch! but being restored to his mistress, he revived, ate, drank, perched, and had recovered in twenty-four hours. It is said that some have been known, when set at liberty in the woods, to return to their masters.” It is quite certain that they recognise the voice of their masters and mistresses, and approach at their call.
[84] According to the Greeks, Progné was metamorphosed into a nightingale, and Philomel, her sister, into a swallow. The Latins have changed and confused this story, which the moderns have, in their turn, copied without examination.
[85] It is not a native of Britain.—Translator.
[86] To prepare this tincture, take of water four parts, of black oxide of iron one part; boil the oxide with the water, and then pass a current of chlorine gas through the mixture till it will absorb no more; filter the liquor and evaporate over a slow fire to the consistence of an extract; when this is cold, pour upon it of hydrochloric ether three parts; let it macerate without heat for several days; then add of alcoholised hydrochloric acid nine parts; macerate again, filter the liquor, and expose it to the sun.—Translator.
[87] This is a mistake; it is as fond of berries as of insects.—Translator.
[88] This bird also has the art of pleasing by his pretty tricks. He shows a striking affection for his mistress; utters a particular sound, a more tender note to welcome her; at her approach he darts against the wires of his cage, and, by a continued fluttering, accompanied with little cries, he seems to express his eagerness and gratitude.
A young male which I had put in the hothouse for the winter, was accustomed to receive from my hand, every time I entered, a meal-worm; this took place so regularly, that immediately on my arrival he placed himself near the little jar where I kept the meal-worms. If I pretended not to notice this signal he would take flight, and, passing close under my nose, immediately resume his post; and this he repeated, sometimes even striking me with his wing, till I satisfied his wishes and impatience.
[89] No doubt his great voracity weakens his stomach, and by loading the intestines with glutinous matter the vessels cannot take up sufficient nourishment; it is therefore not conveyed sufficiently to the skin and feathers, whence proceed the fall of the latter and the enfeeblement of the body.
[90] This bird is not known in Britain.—Translator.
[91] It is however, by no means easily tamed, but remains fearful and distant.—Translator.
[92] In Britain they remain all the year.—Translator.
[93] I have seen some in cages which were entirely fed on white bread which was soaked in hot milk left to get cold, and they were very healthy. If, however, we would feed them well, they require nearly the same diet as the nightingale.—Translator.
[94] It is rarely seen in Britain.—Translator.
[95] I have made the same observation on the redstart.
[96] It remains all winter in Britain.—Translator.
[97] This is a mistake, as it likes to frequent high elms.—Translator.
[98] It is rare in England.—Translator.
[99] It is a remarkable fact, that this bird, now so common in Thuringia, was a rarity there twenty years ago. This change cannot be attributed to climate or food. What is the occasion of it then?—Author.
[100] In sitting on house eaves, and singing in the autumn, it performs a similar part in Germany to the red-breast in Britain. No red-breast on the Continent becomes familiar about the house like ours; they keep always in the woods.—Translator.
[101] At a very advanced age the female acquires all the colours of the male, yet less bright, as I have observed of several birds. Such females do not breed afterwards, and in summer fly from place to place. This peculiarity is also observed in hen-pheasants.—Author.
[102] It is not found in Britain.—Translator.
[103] This I doubt.—Translator.
[104] Most certainly a mistake.—Translator.
[105] Sweet’s British Warblers.
[106] One of these pretty birds, which I had in my room one winter, ate with pleasure, and appeared to thrive upon, a very simple paste, made of the crumb of white bread dried in an oven and powdered: a teaspoonful of this was put in a cup, and three teaspoonfuls of milk, as hot as it could be made without boiling, poured over it.—Author.
[107] It is rare in Britain.—Translator.
[108] It is difficult to decide to what genus this species belongs; it has the characteristics of several. Its size, habit, food, mixed insects and seeds, even its pace, for when on the ground it rarely hops like the warblers, but runs quickly head forwards, like the quails, scarcely ever resting on trees; in all this it bears a relation to the larks. Now as there are larks that appear to form the link between that genus and the warblers, the Alpine warbler may be said to form one also between the warblers and the larks.—Translator.
[109] It is called Joe Bent by the London bird-catchers.—Translator.
[110] This cylinder oftens occasions their death. It is only by great address and quickness that they can pass through the hole of communication; each time they run the risk of being crushed, especially on coming out, from the prolonged motion of the machine.—Translator.
[111] It is not uncommon in Britain, such as near London, &c.—Translator.
[112] They are fond of picking bones.—Translator.
[113] They are not uncommon in Britain, such as about London, &c.—Translator.
[114] It is found, but rarely, in the fir woods in the north of Scotland.—Translator.
[115] I have, however, seen one old crested tit that was tamed as easily as any other bird. After passing the winter in a cage it refused its liberty in the spring. It was then placed in the garden near the house, where it remained till evening, having hopped about all day, uttering restless anxious cries. Its mistress, fearing some accident befalling it during the night, held the cage towards it, into which it instantly jumped with pleasure. Since then it has been allowed to range three adjoining rooms. It is always lively, coming when its mistress calls, and perching on her finger, and seeking in her half-closed hand the flies she may have there. It made a nest in a window-curtain, into which it would glide secretly in the evening, but would never go whilst any eyes were turned on that side, and seized a favourable moment so quickly, that for some time no one knew where it retired; when it was discovered, the curtains were never touched.—Translator.
[116] This is not quite correct, the female having small moustaches of a light colour.—Translator.
[117] They abound in the fens of Lincolnshire, on the Thames below Greenwich, &c.—Translator.
[118] Great numbers are brought from Holland to London, and sell for about five shillings a pair.—Translator.
[119] This is a mistake: the food given to the young is a sort of thick milky secretion from the stomach of the parent birds, both male and female.—Translator.
[120] In England they are not uncommon in the woods.—Translator.
[121] The close and mephitic air of these rooms, which are kept warmer whilst a person is ill, may well produce this apparent sympathy.—Translator.
[122] An erroneous opinion, which displays more egotism than humanity; yet do people generally act with more equity and disinterestedness?
[123] Here is another instance, in which man, seeking his own pleasure at the expense of the well being of other creatures, deceives himself respecting the motives. The poor prisoner does not sing to amuse himself, or from contentment; its repeated cries call unceasingly for the mate from which it is separated; and though they have been vain throughout the day, he renews them on the morrow, no doubt, like man, supported by hope,—a hope, alas! which is never realised!—Author.
[124] It is now uncommon in Britain.—Translator.
[125] A great many mallards are half domesticated on the water in St. James' Park, London, and other similar places in England.—Translator.