flower-buds of fruit trees; but, as this is in the absence of other food, it may be deemed an excusable act. No contempt is intended for the hawfinch and the mountain finch, if we pass them by without remark, having an acknowledged superior in view; in fact, the musical sovereign of the entire tribe.

This distinction is due to the common linnet, usually called Lintie in the north, often mentioned in the poems of Burns.

"I wadna gie the Lintie's sang,

Sae merry on the broomy lea,
For a' the notes that ever rang

From a' the harps of minstrelsie.
Mair dear to me, where buss or breer
Amang the pathless heather grows,
The Lintie's wild sweet note to hear,
As on the ev'nin' breeze it flows."

The bird loves the sweetest and most flowery parts of rural scenery for its abode and breeding-place, such as the open woodlands that are based with blooming furze or broom, and the banks where the wild thyme grows. The nest is planted in low bushes or hedgerows. It is formed of dry leaves and fibres on the outside, mixed with wool or hair, and lined with the same or with feathers. The eggs are from four to six, of a dingy bluish-white, with short lines, and numerous specks of flesh-colour. The natural haunts and

cheery tones of the linnet are well described, as follows:

"In sombre forest, grey and melancholy,

Yet sweet withal, and full of love and peace,
And 'mid the furze wrapped in a golden fleece
Of blossoms, and in hedgerows green and lowly;

On thymy banks, where wild bees never cease
Their murmur-song, thou hast thy home of love!

Like some lone hermit, far from sin and folly,

"Tis thine through forest fragrance to rove-
Linnet-wild linnet!

"The poor, the scorned and lowly, forth may go
Into the woods and dells, where leaves are green,
And ʼmong the breathing forest flowers may lean,
And hear thy music wandering to and fro,

Like sunshine glancing o'er the summer scene.

Thou poor man's songster!-neither wealth nor power
Can match the sweetness thou around dost throw!

Oh, bless thee for the joy of many an hour

Linnet-wild linnet!"

The linnet has its name from linum, flax, of the seeds of which it is very fond, as well as those of hemp, and all of the oily kind. But ample compensation is made for thus faring upon cultivated produce, by diminishing the stock of the noxious. In winter, the birds associate in flocks to look out for food. "We recollect," says Mr. Slaney, "one December, observing two large flocks, of above two hundred in each flight, frequenting for several days some turnip-fields which were very full of charlock or redlack run to seed, and the ripe pods of which were just bursting to cast forth their grain. The linnets were indefatigably engaged in picking up the seeds of this troublesome weed. If each bird devoured only a hundred seeds daily, then their united forces destroyed each day forty thousand charlock seeds: so useful to the husbandman is this little helpmate." So, if serviceable to man to such an extent, he ought not to grudge a little provender from his flax and hemp crops.

The linnet is readily known from the other finches by its blue bill. It moults once a year, in the autumn, but assumes a remarkably altered aspect in spring, the pairing season, without change of feathers. The plumage of the head and breast then acquires a beautiful red tint, which appears only to distinguish the bird while a free rover in the woods and fields. "I have repeatedly," says Selby, "verified the fact of its never acquiring, under confinement, those brilliant tints which distinguish it at a particular period of the year when in a state of liberty. I will adduce one instance

strikingly to the point in question. For some particular purpose of observation, a linnet was shot more than two years ago, towards the close of summer, when the plumage showed its most perfect nuptial tint; and, happening to be only winged, it was put into a cage, where it soon became familiarized with its situation, and still continues. About the usual time, in the autumn of that year, it moulted, and acquired the winter dress of the common linnet, which it has retained ever since, without displaying at the accustomed season any of the brilliant red that adorned it in the wild state." Yarrell and others have shown that similar changes of colour take place in the plumage of other birds, without change of feathers. Great confusion has been caused by it; for the same birds have been deemed distinct, owing to their different appearance at different times. Hence we have the names of the brown, grey, and rose linnet, and the greater redpole, for identically the same species.

The notes of the linnet are clear, soft, and brilliant. The song consists of a number of varied passages tastefully put together, of which a good imitation is at hand.

"Tuck, tuck, feer-from the green and growing leaves;
Ic, ic, ic-from the little song-bird's throat;

How the silver chorus weaves in the sun and 'neath the eaves,
While from dewy clover-fields comes the lowing of the beeves,
And the summer in the heavens is afloat!

"Wye, wye, chir-'tis the little linnet sings;

Weet, weet, weet-how his pipy treble trills!

In his bill and on his wing what a joy the linnet brings,
As over all the sunny earth his merry lay he flings,

Giving gladness to the music of the rills!

"Ic, ic, ir—from a happy heart unbound;

Lug, lug, jee-from the dawn till close of day!

There is rapture in the sound, as it fills the sunshine round,

Till the ploughman's careless whistle and the shepherd's pipe are drowned, And the mower sings unheeded 'mong the hay.

“Jug, jug, joey—oh, how sweet the linnet's theme!

Peu, peu, poy—is he wooing all the while?

Does he dream he is in heaven, and is telling now his dream,
To soothe the heart of simple maiden sighing by the stream,
Or waiting for her lover at the stile ?

Pipe, pipe, chow-will the linnet never weary?

Bel, bel, tyr-is he pouring forth his vows?

The maiden lone and eerie may feel her heart less dreary,
Yet none may know the linnet's bliss except his love so cheery,
With her little household nestled 'mong the boughs."

The bird is of very gentle disposition, easily tamed, and capable of strong attachment to its owner. When young, it readily learns whatever is taught, and will imitate the human voice. Daines Barrington heard the celebrated talking linnet at Kensington, which he went to see, repeat the words, "Pretty boy."

It is usual to place that impertinent cosmopolite, the housesparrow, and his congener, the tree-sparrow, among the finches. The former has an ill reputation as a bold burglar, taking possession of dwellings without asking leave, and sometimes getting himself into a scrape by so doing. Not long ago, under the eaves of a house in St. Owen's Street, Hereford, a swallow's nest, in which a young family had been reared, remained for occupation, probably by the same birds, on their return to the country from their continental winter sojourn. During their temporary absence, the nest was taken possession of and inhabited by some house-sparrows, who, from their loud chirrupings, seemed to like their quarters amazingly. The swallows, wishing to regain the tenancy, had several skirmishes with the intruders, one of whom appeared always to remain at home, to offer resistance from the interior. But they were unable to dislodge them. It was observed at last that a swallow pertinaciously attached itself to the outside of the nest, where it was seen late at night, evidently keeping watch on the sparrow prisoner. The next morning, however, the swallow had

deserted its post; but from the entrance to the nest the dead sparrow was suspended by one of its feet, which was firmly cemented to the outside, and there it dangled, as if by way of warning to all burglarious birds. It will only be fair to give an anecdote in which the sparrows figure very creditably. A pair, which had built in the thatched roof of a house at Poole, were observed to continue their visits to the nest long after the time when the young birds had taken their flight. This unusual circumstance continued throughout the year, and in the winter, a gentleman who had all along observed them, resolved to examine the cause. He mounted a ladder, and found one of the young ones detained a prisoner, by means of a piece of string or worsted, which formed part of the nest, having become accidentally twisted around its leg. Being thus incapacitated for procuring its own sustenance, it had been fed by the exertions of the parents.

Like those who ought to know better, sparrows are apt to fall out among themselves, and are very vehement scolds on such occasions, as most ears can testify. But they can be taught, like their compeers in confinement, to imitate human sounds; and though no good reason appears for bringing them within doors, as they make din enough without, yet Lesbia had a caged one, a great favourite certainly an odd instance of female taste-on whose death the poet Catullus wrote a well-known elegy.

After living in pairs through the early months of the year, the sparrows congregate in flocks during autumn, and scatter themselves over the corn-fields, committing extensive depredations. The loss of grain, however, is more than made up to the farmer by the destruction through the summer of caterpillars and insects, upon which the young sparrows are largely fed.