51 
This inward warble of the Whitebreast is extremely pretty, cheerful, and 
lively, but very low, scarcely audible at a trifling distance. It consists of a variety 
of pleasing chirps, delivered continuously, in a warbling manner, and quite devoid 
of all that harshness which is too prevalent in the song of the Whitethroat. A 
note-like sip, sip, sip,* is often introduced, which will enable the young ornitho¬ 
logist at once to recognize it. This warble is often repeated for many minutes, 
almost without intermission ; as is also the case with that of the Blackcapt Fauvet, 
its more generally known congener. As in that charming songster, this warble 
commences, when in confinement, in spring, long before the loud notes are ever 
uttered, and it is similarly discontinued, by slow degrees, some time before the 
latter cease to be heard. As the Blackcap, too, almost invariably concludes with 
its loud and cheerful warble, so also does the Whitebreast mostly terminate with its 
loud, shrill, and monotonous shivering cry ; which note not a little resembles the 
reiterated and tiresome chant of the Cirl Bunting. The louder songs of both the 
Blackcap and Whitebreast may be heard, though gradually less and less frequently, 
till the end of July. 
The general habits of the wild Whitebreasted Fauvet approximate very closely 
to those of the Blackcap and Garden Fauvets, and it inhabits very nearly the same 
localities. Authors have described it to frequent exclusively the closest under¬ 
wood ; “ on which account,” says Selby, “ specimens are only to be obtained with 
difficulty, and by patient watching.” But it does not appear that this eminent 
ornithologist was personally much acquainted with the living bird, having, most 
probably, written from the imperfect description of some correspondent. In 
many parts of Surrey, where the species is extremely plentiful, it is as fre¬ 
quently observed in trees as the Garden Fauvet, and may be often seen, or 
rather heard (but, if watched for, may be seen also), at a considerable height 
from the ground. I have, indeed, more frequently noticed it near the summits 
of high trees than either of its British congeners, and have repeatedly shot 
it from such situations. Moreover, I cannot even admit that it is a particularly 
shy species ; but, on the contrary, it is, from its restlessness, much more fre¬ 
quently visible, and therefore somewhat easier to procure, than either the Black¬ 
cap or Garden Fauvets. It may likewise be often seen resting, with its plumage 
puffed, perched conspicuously in the sunshine on some bare branch, where its 
snowy white breast renders it extremely noticeable.f 
* Of course I am aware that consonants never occur in the notes of birds ; at the same 
time, my purpose is sufficiently effected if some idea can be thus conveyed of the parti¬ 
cular sound to which I allude, and this, I think, may be pretty correctly gleaned from the 
above attempt to spell it. 
I must here plead innocent of confounding, in this instance, the subject of the present 
memoir with the Grey Flycatcher (Muscicapa grisola), or the Grove Pettychaps (Sylvia 
sibilans), both of which may be often seen watching for passing insects in similar situations, 
