Chirps and 
Chatter. 
(60) 
THE BIRD WORLD. 
Chirps and Chatter. 
THE LITTLE OWL IN ENCLAND. 
Recently a specimen of this bird, shot in Cam¬ 
bridgeshire, has been paragraphed in the Press as 
a “rare visitant,” and mixed up with the Scops 
Owl. The Little Owl, however, is now an estab¬ 
lished British bird, having been freely introduced 
in several localities, while, as it is not of migra¬ 
tory habit, it is doubtful if the few specimens re¬ 
corded before deliberate introductions were made 
were really natural visitants. In places where 
this comical little bird is established it is the most 
conspicuous Owl, as it comes out in broad day¬ 
light. This alone makes it a valuable acquisition, 
to say nothing of its utility as a vermin-destroyer. 
The Scops Owl, at once distinguishable from the 
Little Owl by its long ear-tufts, is really to be 
placed in the category of rare visitors, though at 
least one brood have been reared in captivity and 
afterwards given their liberty in this country. 
NEW LEGS FOR OLD. 
The question of Thrushes “changing their shin¬ 
bones ” seems pretty frequently to crop up. The 
phenomenon is not difficult to account for. 
Thrushes have the horny—not bony—covering of 
their shanks all in one piece, and in some cases 
the horny substance will accumulate year after 
year, till, if it at last flakes off, as it appears to 
do at times, the bird appears to have really 
parted with a portion of its legs. This overgrowth 
of the leg-scales is a common phenomenon with 
captive birds of many species, and, unless it is 
due to the absence of gradual and regular peeling 
or flaking of the scales—if this should be the nor¬ 
mal state of things—may be put down to the same 
unknown cause which makes some cage-birds’ nails 
grow at such a disconcerting rate. This tendency 
to over-secretion of horn varies much in different 
species, as all aviculturists know, and even in dif¬ 
ferent individuals of the same species, as anyone 
may see in canaries. 
IS AVICULTURE CRUEL? 
In a recent number of the Country-side , Mr. E. 
Kay Robinson has some valuable observations on 
this point. He draws attention to what has often 
been stated by aviculturists, that the life of a wild 
bird is very uncertain, and can only last a very 
few years in comparison with what a well-cared- 
for captive can attain to. He gives a striking in¬ 
stance in the cruel persecution, suffered by some 
free Barbary Doves he had, at the beaks of their 
descendants, this showing that it is quite possible 
for a bird’s worst foes to be those of its own 
household. The poor old ancestral pair, when 
mercifully captured and confined, seemed quite at 
home in their cage ; and, although these are domes¬ 
tic birds, the argument drawn from them is no 
doubt quite applicable to really wild ones. 
A PUFFIN IN SHEFFIELD. 
The occurrence of a Puffin in Sheffield in De¬ 
cember is a sufficiently remarkable event to deserve 
notice, although these sea-fowl are more often 
blown inland than is commonly supposed, and one 
has even been captured—indoors—in Brook Street 
in London. The Sheffield bird was saved alive 
and turned out on a piece of ornamental water, 
where it did not long survive. Very likely no fish 
were to be found there, and, even if there were, a 
bird which had flown itself to a standstill, so to 
speak, would hardly be in good condition for fish¬ 
ing. Anyone getting hold of such poor storm- 
driven waifs should give them a meal of fish—or 
minced raw meat if fish is not available—before 
turning them out, even if it should be necessary 
to cram them with it. The idea that salt water 
is necessary for sea-fowl is, by the way, quite a 
mistake. 
A TALKING CANARY. 
A recent issue of the Edinburgh “Evening Dis¬ 
patch ” reports a talking canary in that city, the 
property of Mrs. Helen A. Grant. He is stated to 
say distinctly, “Kevie (meant for “clever”) boy, 
kevie boy; whiskers,” and “Where’s a wee boy?” 
in reproduction of the endearing addresses of his 
owner and her husband. This is not the only 
talking canary that has been placed on record, 
though instances have been very few and far be¬ 
tween; so that there is no reason for the derision 
with which Mrs. Grant’s friends at first treated the 
account of her pet. One loses a good deal by being 
too sceptical at times. 
A TAME ROBIN. 
Stories of the Robin’s innocent confidence in 
mankind are common enough, but seldom has a 
more striking instance been recorded than that 
which occurred to ‘ ; J. L. C.,” a correspondent of the 
Scotsman , on the last day of the old year. In this 
case the bird alighted on 'a whip which the coach¬ 
man was holding in a sleigh which had just 
stopped, within a foot or two of the narrator’s face, 
and remained there nearly half a minute. One 
wonders if the bird was hungry, and thus mutely 
drew attention to his need, and so naturally sym¬ 
pathises with “J. L. C.” in his regret that he had 
nothing to offer his little visitor. 
CALAMITIES OF BLUE ROBINS. 
After the experience of the hardiness of this 
species in English aviaries, one notes, at first 
with surprise (though in exceptional winters simi¬ 
lar disaster overtakes our English birds), that the 
scarcity of the Bluebird in Missouri was due to 
severity of the winter. The following is an ab¬ 
stract of a communication by O. Widdmann in the 
current issue of Bird Lore : The fine warm weather 
of mid-February brought the majority of Bluebirds 
back to their breeding haunts, and the cruel snows 
and weather of March killed them off in large num¬ 
bers. The scarcity of the birds was apparent as 
soon as the warm weather came in, and, though 
it was surmised many had succumbed to the ad¬ 
versity of the weather, proof was not forthcoming 
till later. Mr. J. T. Volkman found within ten 
minutes’ walk of his house eight dead Bluebirds 
in one tree hole, six in another, and nine in a 
hollow telephone post. These charming and 
hardy birds used to be fairly common inhabitants 
of our aviaries, but now have become quite rare ; 
their exportation having been stopped by the 
U.S.A., only a few stray birds leak through occa¬ 
sionally. 
