KEDBREAST. 19 



returned to the tree at the approach of winter, and was again 

 received into the office, where it took up its old station till 

 March. Some of the workmen would not believe that it was 

 the same bird, and one of them, having caught it, marked 

 the breast feathers, under the throat, with printing-ink. The 

 next spring came, and the bird took its departure, as before, 

 returning again at the end of September, to the old mulberry 

 tree, with several other birds of its kind. The window was 

 quickly opened to the welcome old songster, when it flew 

 into the office, followed by two other birds, probably its young. 

 It displayed greater familiarity than before, even perching on 

 the caps of the men, and there singing." 



In "The Naturalist" for March, 1853, there is a very 

 interesting account given, as forwarded to me by Mrs. Harriet 

 Murchison, of Bicester, of one of these birds, whose tameness 

 in a room equalled that of any of those I have here narrated; 

 and Mr. Thompson also records another history, forwarded to 

 him by a lady from Hazelbank, in the county of Antrim. Two 

 birds became quite tame, one of them feeding out of the hand 

 quite fearlessly: 'In a short time he became more familiar, 

 and seemed to watch our approaches, for he frequently met 

 us on the little walk leading from the house, and when we 

 did not attend to him, he would come dashing past, striking 

 my bonnet violently with his wing, or fluttering in my face; 

 he would sometimes sit upon a twig, as if to hold a conversation 

 with me, for he would be quite silent while I talked with him, 

 and so soon as I paused, he began a little soft and sweet 

 muttering in his throat, as if in reply, which he would cease 

 the moment I again spoke. When we found him absent, 

 and called, Terry! Terry! he was soon at our side; and 

 his hearing must be very acute, for I have seen him flying 

 towards us from a very great distance. To give an idea of 

 his extreme composure and satisfaction while sitting on the 

 hand, he has more than once, after feeding, tucked up 

 one of his little feet under his feathers, as we often see 

 barn-door fowls do, and roosting on a finger, deliberately 

 prepare himself for sleep; which on one occasion he indulged 

 in so long as to completely weary his perch. He would eat 

 off my lap, hop about me without any concern, pick at my 

 shawl, and then look up into my face and begin his little 

 song or prattle.' The occupation of land and notions about 

 tenant-right would seem to have been the cause of various 

 disputes; and on such occasions, the writer says, *It would 



