86 FEATHERED FRIENDS. 



over, he asserted that the nondescript had a very clear 

 and musical song. 



Indeed the common Sparrow sings, too, after a 

 fashion, of course; watch him on a fine day in spring 

 when his homely spouse is incubating her oval treasures 

 in some convenient nook near by, and see if he does 

 not value himself and his melody a little, as with 

 ruffled plumes he pours forth a series of discordant 

 shrieks and squeals : certainly he does, and many musi- 

 cians are just as much justified in thinking they can 

 sing as our old friend the Sparrow. 



Well, to bring my introduction to a close. I bought 

 the anonymous bird for four shillings, and for a while 

 kept it by itself in a cage indoors. It certainly had a 

 musical call-note, loud and clear, but I never heard it 

 attempt to sing, though it would repeat its note a few 

 times in succession, which, perhaps, was what the dealer 

 meant when he praised its musical abilities, so I turned 

 it out, into the soft-billed birds' aviary, as I found it 

 would eat ants' eggs and mealworms as fast as an 

 ladigo Bird or a Nonpareil. It was shy and retiring 

 and generally kept itself well out of sight among the 

 bushes, or in the covered-in portion of the aviary, so 

 that I seldom saw it, and was only occasionaly reminded 

 of its existence by its deep, flute-like note. 



One day, I noticed some straws projecting from a 

 box that was hung up in case some of the inmates 

 might like to sleep under cover, or to breed if they 



