“By degrees the sound of the musical instrument—be it flageolet or bird-organ—and the circumstance of being fed, become so associated in the mind of the hungry bird, that it is sure to begin piping the tune as soon as it hears it begin to play. When the little scholars have advanced so far they are put into a higher class, that is to say, are turned over each to his private tutor; in other words, each bird is put under the care of a boy who must carry on its education, and who plays on the little instrument from morning to night, or as long as the bird can pay attention, during which time the head-master or feeder goes his regular rounds, scolding or rewarding the little feathered scholars by signs and modes of making them understand, till they have learned their lessons so perfectly, and the tune is so impressed on their memories, that they will pipe it to the end of their days; and let us hope, as I believe is the fact, that they find in it a never-ending delight.
“Just as in human schools and colleges, it is only the few out of the great number who take the highest honours or degrees, or become senior wranglers, so it is not above five birds in every hundred who can attain to the highest perfection in their art! but all such are valued at a very high price.”
It is allowable to hope that the poor bull-finch, which has thus industriously applied himself to learn, and has thus become artificially gifted with the power of pleasing, takes great satisfaction in his accomplishment. Perhaps also the association with his human teacher calls forth his affection as well as his power of song, for it is a fact that the piping bull-finch is, of all birds, given to attach itself to some one individual of the family where it is kept, expressing, at their approach, the most vehement delight, greeting them with its piping melody, hopping towards them, and practising all its little winning ways to show its love, and to court a return of caresses.
“An interesting story,” says the bishop, “was told by Sir William Parsons, who was himself a great musician, and who, when a young man, possessed a piping bull-finch, which he had taught to sing, ‘God save the king.’ On his once going abroad, he gave his favourite in charge to his sister, with a strict injunction to take the greatest care of it. On his return, one of his first visits was to her, when she told him that the poor little bird had been long in declining health, and was, at that moment, very ill. Sir William, full of sorrow, went into the room where the cage was, and, opening the door, put in his hand, and spoke to the bird. The poor little creature recognised his voice, opened his eyes, shook his feathers, staggered on to his finger, piped ‘God save the king,’ and fell down dead.”
The Devoted Affection of Birds.
We see in the piping bull-finch—a bird which in its education is closely associated with man—the deep and devoted affection of which it is capable; and if we could only live with the animal creation as their friends and benefactors, we should no longer be surprised by such instances of their intelligence and love.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MISSEL-THRUSH.
This is the largest of our British song birds. It remains with us through the whole year, not being migratory, excepting in so far as it moves off in considerable flocks into Herefordshire and Monmouthshire for the sake of the mistletoe which abounds in the orchards there, on the viscous berries of which it delights to feed, and whence it has obtained its familiar name of missel, or mistletoe thrush. It is generally believed that this curious parasitic plant was propagated or planted upon the branches of trees, by this bird rubbing its bill upon the rough bark to clean it from the sticky substance of the berry, and thus introducing the seeds into the interstices of the bark.