130 THE BULLFINCH. 



gence so extraordinary as, at times, almost to 

 appear the result of reason, rather than of in- 

 stinct. A few years since, we were accustomed 

 to see the cage of a tame bullfinch hanging in 

 the midst of wreathing clematis and roses, which 

 clustered over the windows of an elegant cottage- 

 ornee in the west of England. It was a pleasant 

 home ; and could the bird have enjoyed, as we 

 did, the verdant lawn, the thick shrubbery, and 

 the pretty root-house, with its stained window, 

 looking out on the beautiful ravine, rich in rock 

 and wood, it would have been a paradise to him. 

 He was one of the many pets of the gay young 

 creatures who dwelt beneath the roof of that 

 tasteful residence, and probably was happy as a 

 captive bird could be. His history was this : 

 " Caught and caged," we know not when nor 

 where, about ten years ago he came accidentally 

 into the possession of an elderly lady in Lanca- 

 shire. He did not, at that time, appear to be a 

 young bird : he was very tame, and had been 

 taught to pipe a tune. Age and infirmity for- 

 bade his venerable mistress to wander abroad in 

 fields and woods. Perhaps her ear had grown 

 dull to the voice of singing men and singing wo- 

 men; but the song of the bird was pleasant mu- 

 sic, and recalled the calm and simple pleasures 

 which, in earlier years, had been her portion 



