80 SPARROW. 



cautious, cunning, and voracious birds. They are said to 

 be trained in Persia to hunt butterflies, such being one of 

 the royal sports there. In the spring of the year contests 

 among themselves are frequently to be witnessed. Two at 

 first begin; a third comes up and joins in the fray, when he 

 is presently attacked by a fourth. Others stand still and 

 look on and behold the war. 



'Suave mari magno turbantibus aequora vends ;' 



the din and clamour increases until some think it time to 

 retreat, and this possibly has the effect of breaking up the 

 party, and so the 'emeute' is quieted. As in case of the 

 modern 'duello,' no danger is done to either life or limb the 

 'honour' of the parties is easily satisfied without; a hostile 

 'meeting' and a 'sham fight' are quite sufficient, without 

 ulterior result. 



Sparrows are very fond of bathing, and also of dusting 

 themselves in the roads, at all seasons of the year, as well 

 as of sunning themselves, lying on one side in some warm 

 and sheltered place, such as a gravel-walk, the roof of a 

 house, or even against the wall of one. When not engaged 

 in feeding, they perch on trees, bushes, and hedges, the tops 

 of stacks and houses, walls and wood. At night they repose 

 under the eaves of houses, about chimneys, in holes and crevices 

 of buildings, in bushes, the sides of straw-stacks, and among 

 ivy, or other evergreen plants with which walls are covered. 

 They often live in their nests in the cold weather, repairing 

 them with straw and feathers, either for their own warmth, 

 or providing thus early for their future family. 



'It is often remarked,' says Dr. Stanley, 'what impudent 

 birds are London Sparrows! and not without reason. Born 

 and bred in the bustle of the town, they must either live 

 and jostle with the crowd, or look down from the house-tops 

 and die of hunger. Naturally enough, they prefer the former; 

 and all our London readers will, we are sure, testify to the 

 cool intrepidity with which this familiar bird will pounce 

 upon a bit of bread, or some other tempting morsel which 

 happens to catch its eye upon the pavement, and with what 

 triumph and exultation it bears it off to its mate, seated on 

 some window-sill or coping-stone above, or followed, perhaps, 

 by three or four disappointed companions, who were a moment 

 too late in seizing the spoil.' 



