the Bullfinch, which I cannot forego the pleasure of presenting. He says: "Although the song of the male and female Bullfinch, in their wild state, is very harsh and disagreeable, yet if well taught while young, as they are in Hesse and Fulda, where there are schools of these little musicians for all Germany, Holland and England, they learn to whistle all kinds of airs and melodies with so soft and flute-like a tone, that they are great favorites with amateurs, and particularly with the ladies. There are some of these little birds which can whistle distinctly three different airs, without spoiling or confusing them in the least. Added to this attraction, the Bullfinch becomes exceedingly tame, sings whenever it is told to do so, and is susceptible of a most tender and lasting attachment, which is shown by its endearing actions; it balances its body, moves its tail from right to left, and spreads it like a fan. It will even repeat words with an accent and tone which indicate sensibility, if one could believe that it understood them; but its memory must not be overloaded. A single air, with a prelude or a short flourish to begin with, is as much as the bird can learn and remember, and this it will execute to the greatest perfection. These little prodigies would be more interesting and agreeable if their Hessian instructors possessed a little more musical taste, but these are generally tradespeople, employed about the house with their different occupations and trades; and by tunes, airs and minuets of a hundred years old, public-house songs, or some learnt of their apprentices, in general compose the whole of their music." Tame Bullfinches have been known (says Buffon) to escape from the aviary, and live at liberty in the woods for a whole year, and then to recollect the voice of the person who had reared them, return to her, never more to leave her. Others have been known, which, when forced to leave their first master, have died of grief. These little birds remember very well, and often too well, any one who has injured them. One of them, having been thrown down with its cage, by some of the lowest order of the people, did not seem at first much disturbed by it, but afterwards it would fall into convulsions as soon as it saw any shabbily-dressed person, and it died in one of these fits eight months after the first accident. A Bullfinch, belonging to a lady often mentioned before, being subject to very frightful dreams, which made it fall from its perch, and beat itself in the cage, no sooner heard the affectionate voice of its mistress, than, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, it became immediately tranquil, and re-ascended its perch to sleep again. It was very fond of chickweed, and as soon as it perceived one bringing it to him, however much care was taken to prevent its finding it easily, it would show its joy by its actions and cries. Concerning our little warlike Southron, the Painted Finch or Nonpareil, Mr. Audubon has some highly attractive passages. He says: “The flight of the Pape, by which the Creoles of Louisiana know this bird best, is short, although regular, and performed by a nearly constant motion of the wings, which is rendered necessary by their concave form. It hops on the ground, moving forward with ease, now and then jetting out the tail a little, and, like a true Sparrow, picking up and carrying off a grain of rice or a crumb of bread to some distance where it may eat in more security. It has a sprightly song, often repeated, which it continues even when closely confined. When the bird is at liberty, this song is uttered from the top branches of an orange tree, or those of a common briar; and although not so sonorous as that of the Canary, or of its nearer relative, the Indigo Bunting, is not far from equalling either. Its song is continued during the greatest heats of the day, which is also the case with that of the Indigo Bird. "About the middle of April, the orange groves of the lower parts of Louisiana, and more especially those in the immediate vicinity of the city of New Orleans, are abundantly supplied with this beautiful Sparrow. But no sooner does it make its appearance than trap-cages are set, and a regular business is commenced in the market of that city. The method employed in securing the male Painted Finch is so connected with its pugnacious habits, that I feel inclined to describe it, especially as it is so different from the common mode of alluring birds, that it may afford you, kind reader, some amusement. "A male bird in full plumage is shot and stuffed in a defensive attitude, and perched among some grass seed, rice, or other food, on the same platform as the trap-cage. This is taken to the fields or near the orangeries, and placed in so open a situation that it would be difficult for a living bird to fly over it without observing it. The trap is set. A male Painted Finch passes-perceives it, and dives towards the stuffed bird, with all the anger which its little breast can contain. It alights on the edge of the trap for a moment, and throwing its body against the stuffed bird, brings down the trap, and is made prisoner. In this manner thousands of these birds are caught every spring. So pertinacious are they in their attacks, that even when the trap has closed upon them, they continue pecking at the features of the supposed rival. The approach of man seems to allay its anger in a moment. The live bird is removed to the lower apartment of the cage, and is thereby made to assist in decoying others. "They feed almost immediately after being caught; and if able to bear the loss of liberty for a few days, may be kept for several years. I have known some instances of their being kept in confinement for upwards of ten years. Few vessels leave the port of New Orleans, during the summer months, without taking some Painted Finches; and through this means they are transported probably to all parts of Europe. I have seen them offered for sale in London and Paris, with the trifling difference of value on each individual, which converted the sixpence paid for it in New Orleans to three guineas in London. "The pugnacious habits of this species are common, in a great degree, to the whole family of Sparrows. Like the most daring, the common House Sparrow of Europe, they may be observed in spring time, in little groups of four, five, or six, fighting together-moving round each other so as to secure an advantageous position, pecking and pulling at each other's feathers with all the violence and animosity to which their small degree of strength can give effect." CHAPTER XV. OUT OF DOORS WITH NATURE. OUT of doors! We weary of this unceasing labor—are choking to death of the stagnant air of heaped up cities, which, with their gutter-defiled trigonometries, set at defiance, of assoilation, the straight currents of Heaven's fresh airleaving us to moan and swelter amidst pestilential stagnations! Let us go, O ye who yearn for purer odors than the steam of the kitchen! Let us go forth-out of doors with Nature! Aye! and when her fresh breath shall come upon our seamed and heated brows, it shall be with an alchemy more strange than the Elixir of vain Cagliostro-more marvellous than all Spells, Philosophers' Stones, and Fortunatus' Caps-more potent than the wizard edicts of that eldest brother of shadowy science-hoar Astrology! To be sure we ought all of us to be astrologists-perhaps minus the science; for should we not feel humbly-that, as we are children of the earth, so we may be moved as she is moved, in that of us which is earthy?—and that, as the stars are God's flowers of thought-so are those meek wild flowers which we find upon her bosom, the starry bloomings of the thought of earth! Should we not learn, too, to read their teachings?-perhaps thus the blossoming of Life may be renewed in us. Be this as it may-these flowers, and trees, and birds-we love them best and dearly "out of doors!" We know that these Stars may speak drear things to us, |