166 
MISSEL THJIUSK. 
distance- they seem to be more numerous in some places than 
they formerly used to be. They are tolerably good to eat. 
When feeding on the ground they disperse rather widely from 
each other, hopping briskly about, and pecking up any thing 
they can find. If danger is descried or suspected, an alarm 
is given by some sentinel by a low harsh scream, which is 
responded to by a general removal, if necessary. In flying, 
too, the individuals do not keep very close together, and 
while proceeding, a low scream is now and then uttered, and 
when some desirable place for alighting presents itself, they 
either suddenly descend to it, still at some little distance 
apart from each other, or fly about over the field for some 
time before doing so. 
In March the flocks break up, and about the end of that 
month, or towards the middle of April, the individuals that 
have composed them now unite into pairs, and frequent some 
wood, or garden, or orchard, the latter being a very frequent 
choice, from whence excursions are made into the neighbouring 
gardens and fields. The small parties that again are seen 
together after the breeding-season, are doubtless in the first 
instance the members of the family. Mr. Macgillivray has 
seen a flock of seventeen so early as the 25th. of June—the 
parent birds would seem to pair for life. The female is often 
very fearless when sitting, and has been known to fly at an 
intruder, as both birds will at a Magpie or Hawk. They 
are easily reared from the nest, and become very tame. 
Their flight, which is undulated, is rather heavy, though 
quick on occasion, and performed by a series of flappings, 
with short intervals of cessation; on first alighting the bird 
stands for a short time with the head raised, the back rnd 
tail deflected, and the wings slightly drooping. 
This species was imagined by the ancients to have a poeuiiar 
fondness for the berries of the misseltoe, of which indeed it 
was supposed, according to the old proverb, ‘Turdus malum 
sibi,’ to be a sort of foster-parent. Authors, says Aristotle, 
love their books on the same principle that parents love their 
children, as being a sort of reproduction of themselves—mine 
for my ‘History of British Birds,’ I may here take the 
opportunity of thankfully observing, has been not a little 
enhanced by the extensive approbation of the public—a wise 
and discerning public—and in the same way, if there were 
any truth in the old opinion, the bird might love the berryj 
but the supposition is not adequately borne out by the fact. 
