A Citizen of the World. II 



There are no more industrious birds among the 

 friends of the farmer. The rook plays a useful part, 

 but it is the part of second fiddle to the starling ; 

 though it must be admitted that the latter is a terrible 

 fellow when his energies are misdirected in a fruit 

 garden. 



Like many birds, he is fond of berries. In the 

 mountain-ash trees especially, lighted here and there 

 with the hectic flush of dying summer, and hung with 

 clusters of scarlet berries, the birds in autumn hold 

 high revel. Missel-thrushes descend in hungry crowds 

 to the abundant harvest. Perhaps even a roving party 

 of ring-ouzels may pay a flying visit. But, while a 

 bunch of the bright fruit remains to plunder, the tree 

 will be alive from dawn to dark with the flutter and 

 the chattering of troops of eager starlings. 



The song of the starling is not remarkable as a 

 musical performance, consisting as it does of a strange 

 inarticulate chatter, varied by whistling often not much 

 more melodious than the creaking of a gate. But 

 there is no bird more clever in imitating the songs of 

 more tuneful minstrels, or indeed any sounds, musical 

 or otherwise, that may strike his fancy. The town 

 starling brings back with him from his country rambles 

 into the hum of the city, the lapwing's wailing cry, the 

 pipe of the blackbird, the sharp clack of the jackdaw, 

 even the call of the curlew ; while his country cousin 

 on the barn roof will copy to the life the shrill cry of 

 the wryneck in the neighbouring elm, the crow of the 



