"That cannot be a crow," I answered; "its legs are yellow, as well as its beak; and it is more slender, and a more bluish sort of black."
When we approached and offered to touch it; it did not draw back or appear shy, but allowed us to stroke its back and look at it quite closely.
It was a very handsome bird; its plumage beautifully glossy; its claws hooked and black; and its tongue very long. It was pecking at a plate of food that was near it; but did not appear very hungry.
Presently, the officer's servant came to the window, and we enquired what it was.
"A Cornish Chough," was the answer.
We had never seen one before; indeed, knew nothing about that sort of bird. We had, indeed, heard its name in an old song or glee, called the "Chough and Crow;" or that begins with those words.
So we asked Mamma about it when we went in, and she showed us an account of it, in which we found that it is not at all common everywhere, like a crow; but that it only lives in the cliffs of Cornwall, Devonshire, and Wales; and has sometimes, but rarely, been seen about Beachy Head, and in no other part of Europe, excepting the Alps. So that it is really a very uncommon bird.
The same account said that they could be taught to speak like a jackdaw.
But we never heard this one say anything, or make any noise, except a sort of call or croak, with which he answered the servant who attended to him.
We always stopped to stroke and pat him when we went out to walk; and he was a great pet with the soldiers, and went about some years with the regiment.