The Story of a 
. Starling. 
(84) 
THE BIRD WORLD. 
crown Goldie* Many a grand Grey 
Pate has been picked up by exhibitors 
in this way. I remember one I had 
which was bought for is. 6d., and I 
exhibited it at the Crystal Palace many 
years ago; it got no prize, but was 
claimed at the catalogue price, jQ 2 2s., 
and the words of the gentleman who 
bought it were, “ He was the best in his 
class.”" During the dark and dreary 
days of winter the shows are in full 
swing, so you are not so certain of meet¬ 
ing the same fanciers and exhibitors 
every Saturday, but, being well known, 
you are always sure to come in contact 
with some one you know who is able to 
give you the latest news of the cage bird 
world. 
An Excited Group. 
Look on that group over by Mr. 
Barnes’s stall. There you find a well- 
known British bird and Mule judge who 
has just returned from officiating at a 
Canary show, surrounded by an inquisi¬ 
tive lot eager to ascertain all about how 
so and so got on. To all their ques¬ 
tions the judge’s answer is: He does not 
know; he never had a catalogue; he 
never met any one he knew who was 
exhibiting. The simple one. But do 
his listeners believe him ? Ask them ? 
No doubt many of my readers will be 
saying to themselves by this time, but 
what has this got to do with the story ? 
Well, before any one can reach a point 
they have to travel a bit, so patience, 
please, and I will proceed with the 
narrative. 
Poor Joeys Story. 
One Saturday night, when having a 
few words with some friends in the Mart, 
the conversation turned on talking Star¬ 
lings. Some said they had heard one 
sing a song, others had heard them 
speak, but not so distinct as a Grey 
Parrot. My own opinion was, although 
I had heard and read a lot about them, 
and had kept a few in my day; still, I 
never had one that could either speak 
or whistle a tune. That very same 
night, as I was wending my way home¬ 
wards, I purchased my usual papers, 
and amongst them was, of course, one 
pertaining to the fancy. After supper I 
sat down to my usual smoke and a look, 
at my first favourite,- “ Cage Birds.” 
Advertisements with me are always first. 
There, to my surprise, in the sales, 
column, was for disposal a cock Star¬ 
ling that could speak as distinct as any 
one could wish, and also was able to. 
whistle two tunes. 
A Pleasing Coincidenee. 
After the conversation in the Mart 
this was a most pleasing coincidence. 
There and then I determined, if such a 
bird was living and the price right, he 
should be mine. In reply to my enquiry 
I got full particulars, a list of the words 
the bird could say, and the names of 
the songs he could sing. I deposited! 
the cash, and the bird arrived on a 
Saturday forenoon. I put him into a 
large breeding cage I had prepared for 
him, gave him plenty of food, water to 
drink, and a bath, which he immediately 
used, without the least hesitation or sign 
of fear. It could easily be seen he was- 
a hand-reared bird, so the first part of 
the description was correct. I did not 
pay much attention to him that day,, 
being engaged outside in the garden. 
Joey's First Words. 
On the Sunday morning when I en¬ 
tered the room the first words he uttered 
were, “ Give me a worm.” I was 
amazed. I could do nothing but stand 
and look at him. After a moment he 
greeted me with “ Joey’s a beauty,” 
“ Pretty Joey.” I was delighted, the 
realisation of the facts were far beyond 
my expectations. I gave him a worm. 
A worm did I say? I gave-him a dozen 
I was so pleased. After he had got 
outside of the worms I stood aside out 
of his sight, waited and listened. Would 
you believe it, after a time he started 
and whistled the chorus of “ I’ll be your 
sweetheart, if you will be mine ” from 
beginning to end, without a single false 
note or mistake—better, even, than any 
musician could do on a flute. He was 
a marvel, and no mistake. My mind 
