282 THE CHAFFINCH. 
freedom) its song entirely ceases. You may hear 
the thrush, the lark, the robin, and the wren, sing 
from time to time in the dreary months of winter ; 
but you will never, by any chance, have one single 
note of melody from the chaffinch. Its powers of 
song have sunk into a deep and long lasting trance, 
not to be roused by any casualty whatever. All that 
remains of its voice, lately so sweet and so exhilirat- 
ing, is the shrill and well-known monotonous call, 
which becomes remarkably distinct and frequent 
whenever the cat, the ow], the weasel, or the fox, 
are seen to be on the move. 
We are told that in the winter season, the female 
chaffinches separate from the males, and migrate 
into distant countries. I have-not been able to 
ascertain that so ungallant a divorce takes place in 
this part of the country. The chaffinches assemble 
here with their congeners during the period of 
frost and snow, and you may count amongst them 
as many females as males. 
Sad and mournful is the fate which awaits this 
harmless songster in Belgium and in Holland, and 
and in other kingdoms of the continent. In your 
visit to the towns in these countries, you see it 
outside the window, a lonely prisoner in a wooden 
cage, which is scarcely large enough to allow it to 
turn round upon its perch. Itno longer enjoys the 
light of day. Its eyes have been seared with a red- 
hot iron, in order to increase its powers of song, 
which, unfortunately for the cause of humanity, are 
supposed to be heightened and prolonged far beyond 
their ordinary duration by this barbarous process. 
