CAROLINA PARROT. 
85 
mixed with patches of golden yellow: the under surface of the body 
is yellowish green, and the outer webs of the primaries are bluish 
green, passing into bright yellow at the base. The inner webs are 
brown with green tips, the tail feathers are green with the inner webs 
tinged brownish red. The legs and feet are flesh colour, and the eyes 
light brown. 
As authors disagree on the question of classification, so they are 
not in accord as to the merits, or demerits, of the species under con- 
sideration. Audubon observes: “the woods are best fitted for them, 
and there the richness of their plumage, their beautiful mode of flight, 
and even their screams, afford welcome intimation that our darkest 
forests and most sequestered swamps are not destitute of charms. ” 
“On account of its inability to articulate, and its loud disagreeable 
screams, it is seldom kept caged”, writes Selby in Jardine’s Naturalist’s 
Library; while Wilson delivers his verdict in favour of the bird, and, 
as the result of actual experiment, pronounces it to be “ docile and 
sociable, soon becoming perfectly familiar, and capable of imitating the 
accents of man.” 
Bechstein remarks that, “its cry is frequent, it is rather wicked, 
and does not speak; but it well makes up for this by its beauty, 
the elegance of its form, its graceful movements, and its strong and 
almost exclusive attachment to its mistress.” 
“Towards its own kind”, says Wilson, “it displays the strongest 
affection, and if its companions be in danger, it hovers around the 
spot in loving sympathy.-” 
“When engaged in feeding,” continues the same author, “they are 
easily approached, and numbers killed by one discharge; the work of 
destruction, however, is not confined to a single shot, for the survivors 
rise, shriek, fly round for a few minutes, and again alight on the very 
place of the most imminent danger. The gun is kept at work; eight, 
ten, or even twenty are killed at every discharge; the living birds, as 
if conscious of the death of their companions, sweep over their bodies, 
screaming as loud as ever, but still return to the stack to be shot at, 
until so few remain alive, that the farmer does not consider it worth 
his while to spend more of his ammunition.” 
Writing nearly half a centuiy ago, Audubon observes, “They could 
be obtained as far up the tributary waters of the Ohio as the great 
Kesshawa, the Sioto, the heads of the Miami, the mouth of the Mau- 
imee at its junction with lake Erie, on the Illinois river, and sometimes 
as far north-east as lake Ontario, and along the eastern districts as 
far as the boundary line between Virginia and Maryland. At the 
present day (about twenty-five years later) few are to be found higher 
