136 BIRDS OF THE WEST OF SCOTLAND. 



to every true naturalist. I had learned through a friend that Mr 

 Aird of Dumfries had tamed several wild birds at liberty to such 

 an extent as to tempt them to come at call, and take crumbs of 

 food out of his hands; and having solicited from that gentleman 

 a note of his experience with small birds, the following account, 

 the substance of which has since appeared in the proceedings of a 

 local society, was obligingly sent to me: " One severe winter, 

 when I resided in Dumfries, I fed the birds from my parlour 

 window, which overlooked a small garden plot. I noticed in the 

 long-run that the shilfa became the tamest of them all. Since I 

 came to this quiet old dwelling, I have had opportunity of watch- 

 ing the bird more closely. We have had the robin here, who 

 came at call, and sat on the hand in the open air, and ate his fill 

 of crumbs deliberately. Such familiarity in the robin is well 

 known. Not so the tameness to which the shilfa may be brought. 

 In the spring of 1864, a little hen shilfa drew very near my foot 

 for crumbs; and gradually I got her within the door for her 

 breakfast. She built her nest in an Irish yew near the house, and 

 when hatching and eager for food, without loss of time she flew to 

 me in the open air, and seized her crumb from my hand, but would 

 not sit down on it, like Robin. By-and-by she took the bit from 

 my mouth, and followed me closely up and down, flying across my 

 way very near my face, in order to attract attention. Often have 

 I astonished the people passing our gate by calling her down from 

 the tree, and making her take her cake from my lips. Two or 

 three times when I was leaning on a gate a field's breadth from our 

 house she came and sat close down beside me. Once, but only once, 

 as she sat there, she allowed me to touch her with my forefinger. In 

 autumn the general instinct overcame the special familiarity, and 

 she was much away with the flock in the fields yet, back she 

 came every now and then to our door. Toward the end of autumn, 

 as I was standing by a paling a good way up the slope behind the 

 house, I saw a little bird detach itself from a flock on a high tree 

 and come straight down to me. She took her seat on the paling, 

 quite beside me. This was Tibbie, for so I had named our 

 pet. I offered her crumbs, but she would not take them: she had 

 come to me from pure affection. She made off with a brisk chirrup 

 and rejoined her companions. A hawk must have got her, for we 

 never saw her again. So much for little Tibbie of Mountainhall, 

 and I commend her memory to your special regard. I may add 



