spring is to perch upon some conspicuous spot, breathing out their full and natural notes, which, by instinct, the female knows, and repairs to the spot to choose her mate." (Montagu.) The female amongst birds has evidently the advantage over the human species, for she is the chooser, and not the object of choice. The same author tells us, that "birds cannot discriminate the colours by which their species is known;" and this is evidently put forth to account for the male "perching upon some conspicuous spot." But what say others? The nightingale sings "concealed in the thickest part of a bush or small tree." (Field Nat. Mag., i. 201.) Both statements are fact. The nightingale does sing in the concealment of a thick bush, and the song thrush sings, morning and evening, mounted on the highest spray he can find. I cannot suppose that he does this to lure the female to him, for I have never observed it to have that effect; besides, he does it for a very considerable portion of spring and summer; certainly after he is mated. Neither can I suppose that his song is poured forth for the purpose of soothing the female during the period of incubation; for, if that were the case, the soothing would be required as much by night as by day, and as much in the middle of the day as in the morning and the evening: besides all this, he frequently sings at Christmas, when he is neither mated nor seeking a mate. Let us come,

however, to a still later opinion. "The songs of birds have given rise to several curious enquiries of no small interest. After investigating the subject with considerable attention for several years, we have come to the conclusion that the notes of birds, which we denominate singing, may all be referred to hilarity and joy, or to rivalry and defiance." (Rennie's Habits of Birds, 260.) In making this theory hold good, I think we shall find as many difficulties as in any other. Why is the nightingale more joyous than other birds during the night? Is the redbreast habitually more joyous than other birds? for he sings nearly the whole year round. If it be joy that stimulates to song, why do not the females sing as well as the males have they no joy? And why are some birds altogether denied song: are they joyless? The thrush breaks forth into song frequently in the winter, and the woodlark makes the December mornings resound with his song. How is it that these birds are so joyous when all others are gloomy? The meadow pipit, again, when disturbed from her nest, will mount up into the air to a considerable height, and then descend slowly, warbling with all her powers, until she reaches the ground. Is it any source of joy to the bird to be thus disturbed from her nest? This may be said to be "defiance."

To this I have only to reply, it is the usual and general note, and certainly a source of considerable pleasure to the rambler over our mountains, where they abound. But we must, I am fearful, conclude where we began: Why do birds sing? Pontnewydd Works, near Newport, Monmouthshire, Jan. 20. 1834.

ART. III. A Notice of the Imitative Powers of the British MockingBird, or Sedge Bird (Sylvia [Currùca] salicària), additional to that in V. 653, 654. By T. G., of Clitheroe, Lancashire.

I AM surprised that not any other correspondent has noticed the wonderful imitative powers of this bird. So far is my notice in V. 653, 654. (in that notice, " pelting notes," in p. 653. line 8. from the bottom, is a misprint for "fretting notes") from overrating this bird's imitative powers, that I have not enumerated above half the notes which it hits off with such wonderful exactness.

In listening to one the other day for about a quarter of an hour, I heard it give three notes of the swallow, two of the martin, two of the spring wagtail; and, in addition, notes of the sparrow, whinchat, starling, chaffinch, whitethroat, greenfinch, little redpole, and whin linnet (Fringilla Linòta); besides the notes of half a dozen birds which I did not know; at least a reasoning from analogy would induce me to think them imitations, and I have no right to suppose that they were not, because I did not happen to recognise them. I was not strictly correct when I said (in V. 653.) that it only imitates the alarm notes (called here the fretting notes) of other birds; for, although this is generally the case, it is not invariably so. For instance, in addition to producing the alarm note of the swallow, chiz-zee chiz-zee, it also had the whit whit which the swallow uses when flying about, and the chatter of self-satisfaction (not the song) which one often hears in a barn when two swallows are arranging their plan of operations in the spring. Again, in addition to the shriek of the martin, there was the note which it utters when on the wing, in pursuit of its food. There was also the chirrup of the greenfinch, and the whee whee whee which is the climax of the linnet's song, by which it is so irresistible as a call bird, and which appears to bring down the flock, in fact, in spite of themselves.

Although the sedge bird imitated all I have mentioned, it made much more frequent use of the notes of some than of others: the sparrow, the whinchat, the swallow, and the star

ling appeared to be its chief favourites; whilst it only touched once or twice on the notes of the greenfinch and the linnet. It had been very sparing, also, in its use of the chaffinch's note, until one in the neighbourhood had begun to twink twink twink; then the mocking-bird took it up, and twinked away for fifty times together. In the next morning the linnet's note was much more in request; and it also made more use of notes with which I was not acquainted. On neither day did it touch upon the notes of the redstart or pied wagtail, both of which I had heard frequently used by the mocking-bird before. On the other hand, I had not previously observed the notes of the starling and whin linnet, which this bird gave in perfection; and, therefore, though I have said, in my former communication (V. 653, 654.), that I had never heard it make use of the notes of any of the larks or thrushes, I would not be understood to say that this never happens. It is difficult to say, perhaps, that it has a note which is not an imitation; but there is one which it always makes use of when any person approaches the nest (intermixed, however, with the notes of the swallow, whinchat, and whitethroat): this is something like chur-r-r chur-r-r, prolonging the sound of the r very considerably, and in a style which would be quite an acquisition to the Northumbrians, if they could attain it. May 29. 1834.

ART. IV. A Notice of the Songs of the Bramble Finch, the Mountain Linnet, and the Tree Sparrow; with Remarks on each Species. By Mr. EDWARD BLYTH.

I AM not aware that the songs of these birds have ever yet been described. Mr. Selby, in his account of the first, observes, that he is "unable to say whether its notes ever vary in the spring, or whether it possesses any proper song." I have repeatedly heard its song in confinement, and have one now in my possession which sings frequently. Its song consists only of a few coarse unmusical notes, generally delivered in an under tone; and not the least resembling the chaffinch's song, nor that of any other bird with which I am acquainted. I hardly know how to describe the song of the bramble finch : if a person were to fill his mouth half full of water, and draw it slowly backwards and forwards through his teeth, the sound produced would not be much unlike it, at least in part. It also utters a kind of chuck, analogous to the twink of the chaffinch; and sometimes a hoarse jay-like call to its companions. The mountain linnet's song is chattering and inarticulate,

bearing a harsh resemblance to that of the linnet. Its notes are always hurried and indistinct; and are mostly delivered in successive bursts (if I may be allowed the term), sounding like several birds singing together, and reminding one of the firing of bells. I have never heard the sound twite, which it is alleged to utter; but its usual notes upon the furze much resemble those of the common linnet, being either a low tsu-tsu-tsu, or a loud chit chit. I may take this opportunity to mention, that, with the twite in confinement, the red on its rump entirely disappears on the first moult; as, from analogy with its congeners, might be anticipated.

The tree sparrow (Pásser arboreus? P. montànus Auct.) has been usually described to have no song; which is incorrect, for one in my possession frequently sings; and its notes are not altogether despicable, being far superior to those of the bramblefinch. The tree sparrow, like the common species, has a great variety of chirrups; one of which is peculiarly musical and sweet, and may be rendered pee-eu-weep. Its proper song consists of a number of these chirps intermixed with some pleasing notes, delivered in a continuous unbroken strain, sometimes for many minutes together; very loudly, and having a characteristic sparrow tone throughout.

This is a wild and untractable species in captivity; and, consequently, as birds always closely depress their feathers when frightened, appears, when looked at, remarkably slender: yet, when at ease, and undisturbed, the tree sparrow always puffs its plumage so as to appear quite as bulky as the common species; and the individual which I have in confinement has generally this appearance, having lost much of its original wildness; still the species is undoubtedly more slender than the P. domésticus. The sexes of it may be distinguished easily by the smaller size, in the female, of the black spot on the side of the neck: in both, the bill becomes quite black in summer. I do not know how this bird came to be called "mountain sparrow," and "montànus;" for it appears to me, both from observation, and from what I have read of it, only to inhabit valleys; frequenting low damp situations where willows grow, and being more abundant in the flats of Lincolnshire than in any other part of Britain. The more appropriate term arbòreus, therefore, might as well be substituted for "montànus," if the latter is thus implicatory of error.

Were I to judge of the temper and disposition of the bramble finch from one which I kept in confinement last summer, I should call it one of the most untamable of birds; but, were I to form my judgment from the individual which I

possess at present, I should, on the contrary, deem it to be very familiar and confiding. This I just cursorily mention as a caution to those who would infer the general character and disposition of a species from observation of an individual. Animals of the same kind often differ greatly in individual character; and this is remarkably apparent in a brood of ten young bottletits which I have this season reared: it was observable even before they had left the nest.

The bramble finch, like many other species, but chiefly those which have deciduous terminal edgings to their winter plumage, as the linnets, redstarts, stonechat, pied flycatcher, and some of the siskins and grosbeaks, is very much handsomer when two years old than when in its first summer livery. The tints of all these birds are considerably brighter after they have moulted twice, and then (as is particularly observable in the common redstart) a few only of the new feathers are fringed with winter edgings.

I cannot exactly reconcile the mountain linnet, or twite, which, in these parts, is a regular winter visitant, with Mr. Selby's description of it. That gentleman remarks that "it is rather larger than the common linnet, being bulkier in the body, and having a longer tail." Now, all the twites which I have seen (and they amount to many dozens) have invariably been considerably smaller than the common linnet, being intermediate in size between that bird and the redpole. Farther, Mr. Selby's account of it seems to imply that it exhibits a marked seasonal change in the tints of its plumage; "rendering its summer appearance different from that which it bears through the rest of the year." I have specimens in summer plumage; and the only difference I can perceive is an increased brightness of colour on the rump plumage, the terminal edgings of which have disappeared; but this is by no means conspicuous, being a much slighter difference than is observable in the common linnet and the redpole. In other respects, Mr. Selby's description of the mountain linnet entirely agrees with my birds; only that I see no sexual difference in the colour of the upper parts, the rump excepted. Montagu describes the twite to be "rather larger than the linnet;" and says, also, "the top of the head and rump red." But here he is certainly mistaken as regards the head; for I can say decidedly that the twite (of these parts) has at no time any red upon the crown. These discrepancies almost lead one to suspect that two different species are yet confused together under the name of mountain linnet; as, I am quite convinced, is the case with the redpole. See the Field Naturalist's Magazine for April, 1834, p. 172.

Tooting, Surrey, May 29. 1834.