THE STARLING. 



79 



THE STARLING. 



"I can't get out, I can't get out," said the star- 

 ling. I know not any thing, except Gay's "Hare 

 and many Friends," that made so much impression 

 on me, when a boy, as Sterne's description of the 

 captive starling in its cage. His attempt to relieve 

 the prisoner bird, — its pressing its breast against 

 the wires, — its telling every body who came down 

 the passage that it could not get out, — its remain- 

 ing in hopeless captivity, — all tended to make this 

 pretty bird particularly interesting to me ; and, in 

 days long past, I have spent many an hour in listen- 

 ing to its morning warblings, and in admiring its 

 aerial evolutions towards the close of day. 



I wish I could do it a friendly turn, for the plea- 

 sure it has so often afforded me ; but, in taking up 

 the pen to clear its character, my heart misgives 

 me, on account of the strong public prejudice 

 against it. 



There is not a bird in all Great Britain more 

 harmless than the starling : still it has to suffer per- 

 secution, and is too often doomed to see its num- 

 bers thinned by the hand of wantonness or error. 

 The farmer complains that it sucks his pigeons' 

 eggs ; and, when the gunner and his assembled party 

 wish to try their new percussion locks, the keeper 

 is ordered to close the holes of entrance into the 

 dovecot overnight ; and the next morning three or 

 four dozen of starlings are captured to be shot: 



