The Zoologist — October, 1874. 4179 



" It would be futile to here enter into the controvers}' as to the expediency 

 of exterminating or encouraging certain species of birds. Nothing but the 

 temperate and deliberate consideration of an accumulation of well-authenti- 

 cated facts will ever solve the difficulty. The following, however, seems 

 worthy of record. About fifteen years ago the little village of Dale, in Unst, 

 was much infested with sparrows, which, breeding abundantly in every 

 possible situation, yearly assembled in large flocks at the time of the 

 ripening of the corn. A newly arrived Methodist preacher, a Londoner, 

 observing this, at once proceeded to explain to the inhabitants the nature 

 of 'sparrow clubs,' and to urge upon them the necessity of losing no time 

 in exterminating the whole of the mischievous race by every possible means. 

 So implicitly were his instructions obeyed that for many successive years 

 scarcely a grain of corn was touched, and the villagers were lost in admira- 

 tion at the success of the experiment. Some time after his departure, on 

 chancing to inquire how it happened that at Dale the potato crop was always 

 a failure, although formerly the opposite was the case, I was informed that of 

 late years ' the Lord had sent a storie ' (worm) which destroyed the whole 

 crop. Coupling this failure with the absence of sparrows, I asked and even 

 entreated the people to try the experiment of allowing the poor birds to 

 remain unmolested ; but the proposal was merely received with the usual 

 amount of head-shaking, and with the argument, which I did not attempt to 

 refute, that a sparrow had never been seen to pick up a ' storie,' but that 

 scores might be noticed upon any harvest day destroying the corn. Whether 

 or not the people had become tired of persecuting the birds, I cannot say, but 

 from thenceforward the sparrows were allowed to breed without molestation ; 

 and within two years from that time the potato crop was excellent, and it 

 has continued so ever since, nor do the people complain of a smaller 

 quantity of corn than during the time of the persecution." — P. 99. 



The twite, or mountain linnet, is a great favourite of mine. It is 

 cheerful, contented, active, neat and clean, and withal it is a com- 

 parative stranger in the land of cockayne; therefore every scrap of 

 intelligence we can gain respecting him is acceptable — indeed is 

 received with gratitude. In October, 1863, Mr. Harting saw a 

 solitary specimen on Harrow Weald Common, and in the following 

 October several were taken near Kingsbury Reservoir. To see the 

 twite in its native wilds, to watch it building its nest, to note its 

 days of egg-laying, and to learn how it deports itself in its island 

 home, is not a pleasure to be enjoyed by us dwellers in cities, and 

 is reserved for those who are able to breathe the mountain air 

 when and where they please. Dr, Saxby has enjoyed this privilege, 

 and has enabled us to form a very good idea of the private life and 

 domestic arrangements of the twite. 



