PERCHING BIRDS. ifs 
our friend—the very friend of our hearts. We used to 
throng to the prison bars to listen and to treasure his 
loving plaint. Ah! fond fool! he and his tender ditty 
awakened suspicions amongst the police that we had 
communicated with the outer world—a blessing, indeed, 
which they trusted had ended for us. They shouted 
with their voices and hurled sticks, but in the evening 
the little nightingale came again and again with his song 
of solace to us; but his sympathy for patriotism brought 
his doom—he was shot !” 
As a songster, the Blackcap (S. atricapilla) is, I 
think, only second to the preceding species, and well 
deserves its name of mock nightingale. There is an in- 
expressible charm about its song, which is wildly sweet 
and very varied, partaking of the notes of the nightin- 
gale, thrush, blackbird, and garden warbler. It pours 
forth a flood of rich melody, not confined to any set 
song, but giving a play to his fancy, like the minstrel’s 
_fiugers wandering amidst his harp-strings, — 
“ In varying cadence, soft or strong, 
He swept the sounding chords along.” 
This species frequents the gardens along the side of the 
stream in the village where I have found its nest; but 
it is not confined to such localities, for I have met with 
it in the wildest parts of the forest, where the dwarf 
hawthorns are favourite stations of the male from which 
to pour forth his song. I have seldom seen more than 
a pair inhabiting one spot. The pleasure grounds at 
Thoresby are much frequented by them. 
These grounds and the adjoining shrubberies are also 
resorted to by the Garden Warbler (S. hortensis), whose 
sweet and flute-like song is scarcely inferior to the black- 
cap ; indeed, I think it excels it in fulness and richness 
