226 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



I got up and went to say good-morning to my bird, and 

 give him a bit of something to peck at, and found poor 

 Chaffie lying there dead and cold at the bottom of his 

 cage, it made the tears come into my eyes." 



It is love of a kind, no doubt. 



The east-ender is "devoted" to his chaffinch, but for 

 the generality the first favourite is undoubtedly the 

 goldfinch, and if few are seen in cages compared with 

 larks and linnets it is because they are much rarer and 

 cost more. Our "devotion" to it, as we have seen, nearly 

 caused its extermination in Britain, and we now import 

 large numbers from Spain to supply the demand. One 

 doubts that the bird will stand this drain very long, 

 as the Spanish are just as fond of it (in a cage) as 

 we are. 



Here I am reminded of a very charming little poem 

 about a caged goldfinch by one of my favourite authors 

 — El Colorin de Fills, by Melendez, an eighteenth- 

 century poet. I do not think that any one who reads 

 this poem and others of equal merit to be found in the 

 literature of Spain, would deny that the sentiment of 

 admiration and tenderness for birds is sometimes better 

 and more beautifully expressed in Spanish poetry than 

 in ours. Not only in the old, which is best, but occa- 

 sionally in reading modern verse I have been surprised 

 into the exclamation. Would that we could have this 

 poem, or this passage, suitably translated! This may 

 seem strange, since we cannot allow that the Spanish 

 generally, wedded as they are to their ancient barbarous 

 pastimes, and killers of all small birds for the pot as 



