BLACKCAP 61 



from Dover, some three or four winters since a Blackcap 

 was brought me by some boys, in the month of December 

 (if my memory serves me), which had been what they 

 termed ' run down ' (a cruel and barbarous amusement 

 much practised by lads in this part of England, and not, 

 I fear, an obsolete custom in other countries). Snow 

 was on the ground ; the weather quite in accordance 

 with the season ; and most of the feathered tribe, tamed 

 by lack of food and coldness of the atmosphere, sought 

 rather the haunts of men than the wide, open woodlands 

 of Nature, their delight in the joyous days of June. Our 

 little friend, wrested from the grasp of unfeeling creatures 

 as well as natural privations, gradually recovered, and 

 seemed to regain its wonted sprightliness. For more 

 than a month I kept it confined in a cage, feeding it as 

 well as I was able on the few insects, &c., which were 

 to be found ; but in that respect I can safely say it had 

 sufficient to support its existence. Towards the end of 

 January the following year, the coldness of the weather 

 increased, and in consequence I firmly believe my pretty 

 prisoner met an untimely end, and fell a sacrifice to a 

 season it was never adapted to contend against ; for one 

 frosty morning, on paying my customary visit, I found 

 the little fellow stretched at the bottom of his cage, 

 lifeless, and frozen to death. If such be the fate of one 

 in a comfortable room, what must be the fate of others 

 in the open air, exposed to the blasting winds of winter? " 

 — W. H. Cordeaux, Canterbury, January, 1851 (Zoologist,. 

 1851, p. 3054). 



