CHAPTER YI. 
THE PARROT CROSSBILL 
(Grucirostra pityopsittacus ). 
“ And that bird is called the Crossbill; 
Covered all with blood so clear, 
In the groves of pine it singeth 
Songs, like legends, strange to hear.” 
Longfellow. 
“ Crossbill— marvellous bird.” A wonderful creature : 
gipsey amongst the feathered tribe; the Parrot of our 
forests, whose love and song blossom through the icy 
winter, whose very life and death are food for fairy tales, 
and whose beak is so curiously formed that the ever- 
imaginative inhabitant of the North must needs seek in 
some pretty legend an explanation of that which he 
cannot interpret. Its corpse is preserved from decay by 
Nature, as that of the Ibis was by human agency; while 
its habits and ways appear so singular, and are acknow¬ 
ledged as such by those who are acquainted with the 
bird, as to interest the uninitiated whenever they may 
have the good fortune to meet with it. Its life-history 
would fill a volume. 
As yet we have been able to determine only a few 
distinct species of Crossbills. They inhabit the northern 
portion of our globe in both hemispheres. In Germany 
