136 Bullfinches.


BULLFINCHES.


By Katharine Currey.


What bird-lover has not kept the charming little “ bud

finch as a pet. One of the most interesting of British wild birds,

so full of character, wilful, impulsive, devotedly affectionate and

fiercely jealous. And his sweet, soft song, a little plaintive—as

so many sweet songs are—and yet cheery, as he flirts his tail

from side to side, and bows and twists himself about while

whistling the little airs.


I have kept the larger and smaller species ; the former I

brought from Austria, a beautiful bird, living, or rather existing,

in a tiny cage hung against the house of a wood-cutter. He

was regaling himself on privet-berries, of which bullies are

inordinately fond. I have until now always found that the cock

Bullfinch prefers single blessedness in confinement, as the hen

truly deserves her name of “ bully ” and will not let him eat. A

little pair I have now are very united, though the cock is old and

has a poor little crushed foot. His mate seems to like him all

the better for it, and, when he sits on the perch in evident dis¬

comfort with his foot, she flies to him with a tit-bit.


A striking instance of the attachment of even a wild bird

not hand-reared to its cage-home happened some months ago.


Three years ago, a cock Bullfinch I had had for a few

years escaped, and I consoled myself with the thought that as

all the other bullies I had kept, that had accidently flown out of

their cages, had come back generally after a short time this one

would follow their example. But this Bullfinch was attracted

by some fruit in the garden, and flying to some distance lost his

way home. It happened that he used to sing a peculiar little

song with three airs in it and I used to whistle these to him and

he answered. Although he replied to my call, however, he flew oft

further and further and never returned until last summer, when

as I was in the garden, I heard a Bullfinch’s note ; I whistled, and

he piped back—that unmistakable plaintive whistle of the bully!

Nearer and nearer he came, and then I whistled the little song

with the three airs. He answered, and flew straight to me and

to liis old cage on the lawn. It was my long-lost pet! But as

he had had his freedom for so long I would not deprive him of it



