The goldfinch is a handsome, lively bird, uttering his sonorous song at all periods except when molting. It consists, in addition to several intricate and twittering notes, of certain tones which resemble those of the harp, and it is valued in proportion to the number of times the syllable “fink” recurs. The goldfinch may also be taught to whistle certain airs and to repeat the song of other birds, though in this respect it is not so docile as the canary.
Ducks are not commonly numbered among song birds, but a French paper, La France Chorale, gravely relates that an old trumpeter living in the department of the Meuse, knowing that it was possible to teach speech and music to parrots, starlings, blackbirds, magpies, and others of the feathered tribe, operated lately on a duck in his court. He obtained his pupil when a duckling, adopting it, and set about its education. In a secluded corner he would sing to it an air a hundred times over, till the intelligent biped had grasped the melody. Soon the interesting creature commenced to quack little tunes, and at the end of six months could correctly repeat a considerable portion of the “Femme a Barbe.” The owner of the feathered songster is going to Paris to exhibit his bird.
Mocking birds are valued highly for their power of acquiring the notes of almost every other bird, imitating various sounds and even learning to talk. They should be taken when very young; birds old enough to be caught in traps either never sing at all, or only in an inferior manner. Their tuition consists merely in giving them the opportunity to hear whatever it is desired to have them learned. They usually begin to sing when two months old, and some bird fanciers think they improve in strength and fullness of tone when kept some years. It is less difficult to keep mocking birds than is generally supposed. A correspondent of Haney’s Journal gives the following as the best method of capturing and rearing these birds:
“Take the trouble about the first of May to take a tramp through the woods and along the hedges until you find a nest, and be sure it is the right kind. Do not touch the nest, but visit it every few days, and when the young are hatched and can open their eyes and mouths, take the nest and birds home with you and set them in a cage. You then prepare some corn meal very soft, by scalding, and feed them every half hour by putting it in their mouths; when hungry they will open their mouths and cry if you approach them, then is the time to feed them; when they become strong enough to hop about the cage you may then put water and the meal in the cage and they will soon learn to feed themselves. The cage should be cleaned out at least every other morning, and fresh dry clean sand put on the floor. The regular feed of the birds should be corn meal and hard boiled eggs mashed together with a little water; scalded fresh beef is very fine for them, also a few polk berries occasionally, all kinds of fruits, bread that is not ‘short,’ meat not salt; never give them anything sweet. I nearly lost a fine bird by allowing it to get some sour molasses. The best medicine for the mocking bird is two or three spiders. Be sure to put a pan of fresh water in the cage every day, and as he is a great washer and invariably sings better if you give him plenty of water and spiders. The bird should never be let out of the cage, and he then does not know what liberty is. I now have one five years old, who will not come out of the cage if the door be left open all day; he can not be bought for $100. He has been reared according to the above method, and, besides this, I guarantee it to be the easiest and unsurpassed. So soon as they are old enough those which do not sing should be turned out that they may gain their living before the winter comes on. Never keep two in one cage after they commence to sing; they will fight until one dies. Summary: plenty of water, clean cage, no sweet or salt food, fresh meats, flies, grasshoppers and house spiders as medicine; polk berries as a cathartic; don’t expect them to sing during molting period.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
TALKING BIRDS AND THEIR TRAINING.
Many of the larger beaked birds may be taught to speak words or even sentences, or will learn them of their own accord from overhearing them. This power is principally possessed by the even tailed parrots, in which the tongue is large, broad, and fleshy at the tip. Their articulation does not possess that accuracy and exactness of modulation characteristic of the human voice, but to a certain extent this is mimicked. Usually there is a harshness and crudeness in their speech, though in this respect they greatly vary.
All birds possessing the power of learning to talk are gifted with a great imitative faculty, and therein lies the secret of their tuition. Parrots will often pick up words, or odds and ends of sentences, but usually it is desired that they shall learn some particular phrases, to suit the fancy of their owner. In this case a little drilling is required. The trainer should take the bird alone where there will be nothing to distract his attention; caress and pet him a little, then repeat the word in a distinct tone, and repeat at intervals of a few moments. Soon the parrot will attempt to repeat the word; caress him and reward him with a bit of cracker. Repeat this until he has learned the word thoroughly; when he has done so an alteration may be made in the method of training. On all occasions when he desires anything, make him repeat his lesson before his wishes are gratified. Gradually his lesson may be increased in length, new words or phrases being added. A lady relative of the writer possessed, some years ago, a parrot which was always anxious to be allowed to come from the hall, where he was usually kept, into the sitting room. Before he was permitted to enter he was always made to repeat a long string of nonsense, something like the following: “Pretty little, darling, sweet, beautiful, adorable Polly wants to come in.” This task he was rather inclined to shirk, and would commence with: “Pretty Polly wants to come in,” in hopes that would suffice. The door remaining closed, however, he would in a minute or two commence with: “Pretty little Polly wants to come in,” and so on, each time going away back to the commencement, and each time adding one of the previously omitted words until the whole were given and the door opened to admit him.
Usually there is no sense in a parrot’s expression; he “Polly wants a cracker” on all occasions, however inappropriate. He may be taught to use his language in a manner which is almost startling to one uninitiated into the secret of the matter, so apparently is it the action of reasoning powers. We have shown above how the bird can be taught to repeat any required set of words (within reasonable limits) to accomplish a desired result. The bird knows nothing about any meaning to these words, he only knows that by making certain sounds he receives a reward. Ordinarily a parrot will persistently assert that “Polly wants a cracker” when Polly doesn’t want anything of the kind, but does want a drink of water. The owner does not take the parrot’s statement as the expression of the actual want expressed, but merely that the bird wants something. The parrot consequently uses any phrase he has learned to express any desire. He is capable of associating certain phrases with certain results, without knowing anything of the meaning of the phrase. Thus, if he be taught the phrases: “Polly wants a cracker,” and “Polly wants a drink,” he will be just as apt to express either one by either phrase as he will to do so correctly; but if he receives cracker only when he asks for it, and a drink only when he asks for that, he will learn to associate the different sounds with the different results. This may be extended beyond this simple illustration as much as individual ability is capable of.
A story is told of a dweller in some eastern country who trained a parrot for sale. The bird’s education comprised only one phrase: “There can be no doubt of that!” To market the parrot was taken, and exposed for sale. Attracted by his beautiful plumage a certain rich man inquired the price. “One hundred sequins,” replied the owner. “Is he really worth all that?” inquired the customer; whereupon the bird exclaims, “There can be no doubt of that.” Charmed by the appropriateness of the reply the man buys the bird and takes him home in triumph, which triumph is changed to a disgust when the limited powers of his prize are discovered. Enraged at having paid so extravagant a price for so poor a talker the man one day exclaimed in the presence of the bird: “What a fool I was to buy such a stupid thing!” Again the parrot’s single sentence comes in quite appropriate as he repeats, “There can be no doubt of that!”
A bird show was held at a museum in New York several years since, to which a parrot was sent that had been taught to repeat the Lord’s Prayer. This was advertised extensively, and hundreds of persons went to hear the wonder, but to their disappointment and the vexation of the owner, Poll would not utter a word during the exhibition, although fully able to do what had been expected. After the show, the parrot was taken home, and upon reaching its place it exclaimed—probably an accustomed phrase—“I suppose I can talk now,” and became as voluble as ever.