362 On the successful Nesting of the White-throated Finch.


The first youngster left the nest on August the 3rd, and

the second on the following day. They were funny little things

about half the size of their parents, with light brownish fawn

plumage, white waistcoats, darkish legs, lead - coloured beaks,

black eyes, and queer little bob tails. Both parents were most

attentive to their every want, and woe betide the bird that

incautiously ventured too near them ! The two little things

would sit as motionless as statues for hours on end, except when

being fed, when they kept up a continuous plaintive cry. The

old birds always got above them to feed.


One morning I had a narrow escape from losing the old

cock, for he got between the glass front and the window, and

but for my timely visit would have perished incontinent; but

then, narrow escapes are as good as broad ones !


The Wliite-tliroated Finch has very little voice. The ken

has a solitary chirp, something like a Sparrow’s. The song of

the cock reminds me of a remark of Kingslake’s when listening

to a zither: “I like that music, it is almost as good as none at

all.”


With regard to food, these little birds are very easy to

please: they prefer millet, then canary seed, and, if you can get

it, flowering grass finds first favour. Cuttle - fish bone they

much appreciate.


I have had the nest photographed, as it is such a beautiful

structure—so strong and yet apparently so fragile.


The eggs are rather large for the size of the bird, and very

much like those of our garden or common Sparrow. I took one

out of the second nest (for the hen is sitting now), after I was

sure of the first youngsters; otherwise nothing would have

induced me to look.


The little hen is sitting steadily as I write, and will no

doubt bring off another brood with luck. Blessings never come

alone !


When I shewed the young birds to Mr. Oates, one of our

members, on August the iStli, he eyed them with all the fervour

usually bestowed on a holy relic.



