SPAEROW. 79 



out, and seizing his beak above the nostrils, with her own 

 beak, pulled it so hard that she killed him. She did not 

 appear, however, aware of the mischief she had done, but 

 continued pulling at the dead body of the unfortunate bird, 

 with as much perseverance as if it had been alive. She 

 was, at length, driven away by a person who saw the whole 

 transaction, and with some difficulty extricated the dead bird. 

 Its head was dreadfully mangled, and the beak of the hen 

 had evidently penetrated the brain. About an hour afterwards, 

 a Sparrow, supposed to be this hen, was observed sitting on 

 the very spot where the accident had happened, crouched 

 together, with her feathers all standing up, so as to give 

 her the appearance of a ball, conveying a perfect idea of 

 disconsolate suffering.' 



'A few years ago,' says Mr. James Bladon, of Pontypool, 

 in the 'Zoologist,' pages 16-17, 'I was sitting in a cottage, 

 when my attention was attracted to an unusual screaming 

 of a small bird. I immediately went to the back door, and 

 saw that it proceeded from a House Sparrow that was 

 fluttering about on the wall, at the base of which was a 

 duck with something in its bill, which it was endeavouring 

 to swallow. Upon attentively observing it, I found this to 

 be a callow nestling, and from the agonies of the poor 

 Sparrow, there was no mistaking the parent; the feathers of 

 the latter were all erect, and it continued hopping and flut- 

 tering about, and uttering the most distressing cries for the 

 loss of one of its young, which I suppose had fallen out of 

 its nest.' 



For a considerable portion of the year, Sparrows are occupied 

 in pairs in the bringing out their several broods of young, 

 and when the last of these is able to fly, the old and young 

 ones together repair to the fields, where, during the time 

 that the corn is ripe, they are to be seen in large flocks, 

 gathering in their own harvest; but when the crops are 

 carried, and the gleaning is over, they soon repair to their 

 former quarters, and renew their familiarity with the habitations 

 of men. They may indeed at all times be considered as 

 gregarious birds in some degree; at all events they are 

 generally brought together in greater or less numbers, so that 

 the 'Sparrow that sitteth alone upon the house-top' has been 

 well selected by the Psalmist as an emblem of forlorn melan- 

 choly. They shew considerable aifection to each other, and 

 anxiety for their young, and are spirited, courageous, energetic, 



