It takes time and trouble to teach a bullfinch to whistle a tune, but it pays for the labor. A young bird must be taken from the nest before it has begun to twitter and kept where it can hear no sounds except those made by its teacher. In this way it fails to learn its native tones and may be taught to do wonderful things, whistling a whole tune as well as any boy could do it. I can prove this best by telling a little story.
There was a flute-player at a London theatre who had an ebony flute with silver keys. But he did not often use it, for one of its upper notes was not good. He lived with a tailor and the two were great friends.
One night, while he was at the theatre, some one stole his silver flute. He could not think who had done it, except it was an old woman who did the work of the house. But nothing could be found out and in time the loss was forgotten. A few months later the tailor moved to a town some miles away, but the two were still friends and at times paid each other visits.
Once, after a year had gone by, the flute-player went to see the tailor, and was pleased to find that his friend had a splendid bullfinch, which could whistle three tunes. But there was something curious about these tunes. Whenever the bird came to a certain high note it would skip this and go on to the next. The musician was quick to notice that this missing note was the very one that was wanting in his flute. He sharply questioned the tailor, who was forced to admit that he had stolen the flute and had used it in teaching the bird its tunes.
There are many other birds that can be taught to whistle tunes. The English blackbird is one of these. A writer tells us a pretty story of this bird. He says:—
"I once knew a bird that could whistle 'Polly Hopkins' with wonderful accuracy. His owner sold him, at the same time making the purchaser acquainted with the bird's favorite tune. As soon as the gentleman got home he at once hung up the blackbird, and, going to the piano, struck up 'Polly Hopkins.' But he introduced parts into the tune that the bird had never heard before; so, after listening awhile, the little critic began hissing, fluttering his wings and thus showing his distaste. Much surprised, the gentleman left off playing, and then the blackbird opened his throat and favored his new master with his version of 'Polly Hopkins,' nor would he ever listen with any patience to any other version."
I must also tell the story of the wood-chopper's ghost. Once there was a lively wood-chopper who was always whistling and singing while at work. But in spite of his jolly temper something went wrong and one day he hung himself in his shop. Some days later other men at work in the wood-shed were dreadfully scared by hearing the dead man's favorite tune, "William at the Garden Gate," whistled in his old way. There was a rush from the shop, which they thought haunted, and as the tune was kept up day after day, no one would go near the place. Finally the mystery was made clear. A thrush was seen to fly from a near by grove to the roof of the wood-shed and pipe up the ghostly tune. It had learned it from the wood-chopper's lips and came back every day to the same spot to whistle the tune.
The Skylark, a very common bird of Britain and Europe, is so famous for the charm of its song that many of the poets have sung its praises in rare verse. It does not, like many birds, sing when sitting, but pours out its voice when on the wing and when far up in the sky. From this it gets its name. From the upper air its sweet notes come tumbling down in pearly music, "the notes nearly all alike and in the same key, but rapid, swarming, prodigal, showering down as thick and fast as drops of rain in a summer shower."
This is a favorite cage-bird, one that lives many years in its narrow home. It sings in the cage as sweetly as when in the air, pouring forth its song many times in an hour and for weeks and months together. It is also a loving little pet and grows very fond of those who care for it.
Of course all of you have read of the Nightingale, the Bulbul of the Persian poets, a bird whose very name seems to sing. This little songster has for ages been famous for its loud, rich and varied tones, its song being full of long, plaintive, quivering strains. Singing all night long, when most of the birds are still, it has been a favorite among bird lovers and poets in all lands, the Persian poets making the loves of the bulbul and the rose a theme of many of their verses. Its song has a mournful tone, but as it is sung to its mate in the nesting season, the sadness in its voice must keep company with gladness in its heart.