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me that the farmers had suffered a visitation, tens of thousands of these birds having descended on 
their ripening crops of corn and proved almost as destructive as an army of locusts. It is difficult to 
account for these occasional irruptions in such numbers, in the case of a bird not otherwise plentiful. 
The sudden failure, or scarcity, of the ordinary food-supply in certain wooded districts is the most 
rational way of accounting for such unexpected visitations; but, apart from this cause, there 
are doubtless others directing and regulating the migratory impulse, although at present we are 
unable to define them. The same sort of thing is occurring, more or less, in every part of the world 
and in every department of the animal kingdom. Beyond laying down general principles, it is 
impossible to explain some of the phenomena. For example, who has been able to account 
satisfactorily for the sudden irruption of Pallas’s Sand-Grouse (. Syrrhaptes paradoxus) into Europe 
in 1863 1 These birds, which had scarcely ever been heard of before, came from beyond the 
Caspian Sea, traversing some 4000 geographical miles, spreading themselves over Europe m countless 
flocks like a Tartar invasion, without any apparent cause, and disappeared again just as suddenly and 
unaccountably as they had come. The same question may be asked of the remarkable influx of 
the Waxwing into England in the winter of 1849-50, an event quite unparallelled in the ornithological 
history of the country. To come nearer home, what naturalist was able to account, more than 
theoretically, for the plague of caterpillars which (up to the time of the introduction of the much- 
abused House-Sparrow) periodically, but at long intervals, visited our country districts, coming in 
countless millions, sweeping all before them, and utterly wrecking the hopes of the farmers'? 
This species bears confinement remarkably well, and is very docile and familiar even when 
taken as an adult bird. It is also very intelligent, and possesses the faculty of mimicry m a high 
decree. 
° It is quite the cottagers’ friend in New Zealand. Riding or driving through the suburbs of the 
provincial towns— the Porirua and Karori districts for example, near Wellington— you will notice m 
many of the farmers’ houses and roadside cottages small wooden cages of primitive construction (often 
merely a candle-box or whisky-case, faced with wire netting or thin wooden bars) fixed up to the 
front of the building or under the simple verandah. On closer inspection each of these cages will be 
found to contain a tame Parrakeet — the pet of the rustic home and “ Pretty Poll of the family ; 
and I have often been quite interested at finding how attached these simple people become to their 
little captive. 
One of these birds has been in the possession of a lady at Christchurch (Canterbury) for more 
than eight years. Although full-grown when first caged, it has learnt to articulate several words 
with °reat clearness. It is very tame, and displays a considerable amount of intelligence leaves its 
ca o- e every day for exercise, and returns to it immediately on the appearance of a stranger. It knows 
its fair owner’s voice, will respond to her call, and will “ shake hands ” with each foot alternately in 
the most sedate manner. Another, in our own possession, survived confinement for more than eleven 
years, and appeared then in perfect health and strength, when it fell a victim to the household puss. 
This bird could articulate sentences of three or four words with great precision ; and the loss of so 
intimate a family-friend was “ sincerely lamented ” by all our circle. 
At the Foxton railway-station there used to be (and may be still) a tame Parrakeet that had 
learnt to say “ Be quick ! ” and was accustomed to repeat these words with energy and clear articula- 
tion as the passengers by train crowded round the ticket-window. 
In certain particular woods where, for some unaccountable reason, all other birds are scarce, this 
Parrakeet may always be found. One such tract lies between Cambridge and Ohinemutu, where the 
coach-road passes through some twelve miles of the most picturesque bush imaginable. Destitute as it 
generally is of bird-life, the scenery is enchanting. At intervals of a few miles there are deep wooded 
gorges, the eye often resting on tree-tops some three hundred feet below the spectator. The bush itself 
