THE CHAFFINCH 
Although some foolish folk may think 
We only cry out “Pink! Pink! Pink!” 
We know a really pretty song, 
Or some of us, to whom belong 
A skill in notes denied to others — 
Even those so closely kin as brothers. 
The story that a Chaffinch feeds 
On many useful garden seeds, 
Which people constantly repeat. 
As if we had nothing else to eat. 
Would end if you could kindly mention 
Some useless seeds worth our attention. 
On a day in April or May, while walking down 
some green lane, by the side of a thick hedge, you 
may have noticed a pair of birds, a cock and a hen 
Chaffinch, much disturbed by your approach. 
“ Pink ! Pink ! ” they are crying, as they hop 
among the twigs in a flurried manner. This is how 
they behave if any stranger draws near their nest 
while it is being built, or afterwards when it contains 
four or five pale-bluish eggs, beautifully spotted with 
purplish brown. 
Very often, indeed, their excited behaviour will 
