ANECDOTE OF TWO NUTHATCHES. 127 



wire, as it destroys wood with its bill. Bechstein, in his 

 ' Cage Birds/ relates an instance of its familiarity: 



A lady amused herself in winter with throwing seeds on the 

 terrace below the window to feed the birds in the neighbourhood. 

 She put some hempseeds and cracked nuts even on the window-sill 

 and on a board, particularly for her favourites, the Blue Tits. Two 

 Nuthatches came one day to have their share in this repast, and 

 were so well pleased that they became quite familiar, and did not 

 even go away in the following spring to get their natural food, and 

 to build their nest in the wood. They settled themselves in the 

 hollow of an old tree near the house. As soon as the two young 

 ones which they reared here were able to fly, they brought them to 

 the hospitable window where they were to be nourished, and soon 

 after disappeared entirely. It was amusing to see these two new 

 visitors hang or climb on the walls or blinds whilst their benefactress 

 put their food on the board. These pretty creatures, as well as the 

 Tits, knew her so well, that when she drove away the Sparrows 

 which came to steal what was intended for them, they did not fly 

 away also, but seemed to know what was done was only to protect 

 and defend them. They remained near the house for the whole 

 summer, rarely wandering, till one fatal day at the beginning of the 

 sporting season, in autumn, when on hearing the report of a gun, 

 they disappeared and were never seen again. 



According to Gilbert White, this is sometimes called 

 the Jar-bird, because it makes a clatter with its bill against 

 a dead bough, or some old pales, which may be heard a 

 long way off. This author also states that the rapping 

 noise is sometimes caused by the efforts of the bird to 

 break the shell of the nut, on which it intends to feed. 

 He remarks that ' there are three creatures the squirrel, 

 the field-mouse, and the Nuthatch which live much on 

 hard nuts, and yet they open them each in a different 

 way : the first, after rasping off the small end, splits the 

 shell in two with his long fore- teeth as a man does with 

 his knife ; the second nibbles a hole with his teeth, as if 

 drilled with a whimble, and yet so small that one wonders 

 how the kernel can be extracted through it ; while the 

 last pecks an irregular rugged hole with its bill.' It is 

 this close observation of nature which renders the ' Natural 

 History of Selborne ' so valuable. All students of nature 

 should cultivate the habit of watching narrowly, and 



