74



No, I am wrong, there are some more Mannikins here: for I must not

forget my old pair of Chestnut Finches which won me a good many prizes

during the short time that I went in for exhibiting, but which now repose

upon their laurels and look fully as old as they are. They have been good

servants, but they were never favourites of mine — the Chestnut Finch is

the most stupid and timid of birds.


Probably the most uncommon bird in my room is the Jacarini volatinea :

he is a little South American bird of a very graceful shape, and similar in

colour to the male Combasou—as I mean to describe him, some day, in a

paper for our “ Rare Foreign Rirds ” series, I will say nothing more about

him now. But I take much more pride in my Parrot Finch, which I bought

for 5/- in answer to an advertisement of an “ Australian Green and Red

Finch,” in the Feathered World —this beauty brightens up the whole aviary

with his lovely metallic green.


Although a much less valuable bird, my Alario Finch is an even

greater favourite than the Parrot Finch : he is by far the tamest of_all my

birds, and much the best songster (except, perhaps, a hen Grey Singing-

fiinch which sometimes, but very rarely, indulges in a song; the cock Grey

Singing-finch is, alas ! dead). The Alario sits on a bough close to the netting

■which divides his aviary from the one adjoining it, and on bright days sings

away almost constantly, as if he were defying the Ribbon-finches and

Weavers in the next aviary. I wish I could obtain a wife for him.


Another solitary, but equally cheerful, little bird is the Cuba-finch—it

seems even more hopeless to try to get a wife for him, for Cuba-finclies so

rarely reach England and are so rapidly bought up when they do. Oddly

enough, the Cuba Finch has struck up a great friendship with the

Dufresne’s waxbill, and thej^ often sit side by side and preen each others

feathers.


The Whydahs are out of colour and therefore not worth looking at,

although the Combasou still retains his summer plumage. This Combasou

is getting an old bird, and I find that each year he remains longer and longer

in colour; perhaps, if he survive long enough, he will be in perpetual colour !


An odd Parson-finch, and a Cherry Finch whose wife fell a victim to

the Crystal Palace Show of 1894, complete the list of birds in this, my most

thickly populated aviary. I must leave the contents of the other aviaries

to be described some other time.*



BRITISH BIRDS WE HAVE KEPT.


V.


THE ROBIN.


By Thomas Marshai.Iv,


Hon. Sec. of the Cage Bird Club.


There is no bird which I take greater pleasure in writing about than

the Robin (Sylvia rubicola), because I feel he is well worth all that I can say

about him, not only as regards his song and personal appearance, but also

because of the comfortable, not to say philosophical, manner in which he

adapts himself to surrounding circumstances. And this sentiment does

not apply solely to his manner of adapting himself to captivity, because

he is by no means so conservative in his methods, when at liberty, as

birds generally are : for instance, the places chosen for the purposes of



*This paper was written some months ago, and several of the birds mentioned

died last February from the effects of the dense smoke which arose from a lamp left

burning in the bird-room all night, and which in some inexplicable way got out of

order. Oil lamps and oil stoves are highly dangerous in bird-rooms. The article is now

published chieflv in the hope that others will follow my example and send the Secretary

a chatty informal account of their birds. This is a series to which all can contribute,

and those members who have not yet written for the Magazine are especially urged to

send some notes, however rough, which can be published under the heading of “ Our

Birds.”—H. R. F.



