as more beautiful and graceful in shape and plumage. Be assured the bird is very young before purchasing it.
I feel very lonely now since my starling is gone. I could not bear to look upon his empty cage, his bath and playthings, so I have had them all stowed away; but the bird will dwell in my memory for many a day. The way in which that starling managed to insinuate itself into my heart and entwine its affections with mine, I can never rightly tell; and it is only now when it is gone that I really know how much it is possible for a human creature to love a little bird. The creature was nearly always with me, talking to me, whistling to me, or even doing mischief in a small way, to amuse me; and to throw down my pen, straighten my back, and have a romp with “Dick,” was often the best relaxation I could have had.
The rearing of a nest of starlings is always a very difficult task, and I found it peculiarly so. In fact, one young starling would require half-a-dozen servants at least to attend it. I was not master of those starlings, not a bit of it; they were masters of me. I had to get out of bed and stuff them with food at three o’clock every morning. They lived in a bandbox in a closet off my bedroom. I had to get up again at four o’clock to feed them, again at five, and again at six; in fact, I saw more sunrises during the infancy of that nest of starlings than ever I did before or since. By day, and all day long, I stuffed them, and at intervals the servant relieved me of that duty. In fact, it was pretty near all stuffing; but even then they were not satisfied, and made several ineffectual attempts to swallow my finger as well. At length – and how happy I felt! – they could both feed themselves and fly. This last accomplishment, however, was anything but agreeable to me, for no sooner did I open their door than out they would all come, one after the other, and seat themselves on my head and shoulders, each one trying to make more noise than all the rest and outdo his brothers in din.
I got so tired of this sort of thing at last, that one day I determined to set them all at liberty. I accordingly hung their cage outside the window and opened their door, and out they all flew, but back they came into the room again, and settled on me as usual. “Then,” said I, “I’m going gardening.” By the way they clung to me it was evident their answer was: “And so are we.” And so they did. And as soon as I commenced operations with the spade they commenced operations too, by searching for and eating every worm I turned up, evidently thinking I was merely working for their benefit and pleasure. I got tired of this. “O bother you all!” I cried; “I’m sick of you.” I threw down my spade in disgust; and before they could divine my intention, I had leaped the fence and disappeared in the plantation beyond.
“Now,” said I to myself, as I entered the garden that evening after my return, and could see no signs of starlings, “I’m rid of you plagues at last;” and I smiled with satisfaction. It was short-lived, for just at that moment “Skraigh, skraigh, skraigh” sounded from the trees adjoining; and before I could turn foot, my tormentors, seemingly mad with joy, were all sitting on me as usual. Two of them died about a week after this; and the others, being cock and hen, I resolved to keep.
Both Dick and his wife soon grew to be very fine birds. I procured them a large roomy cage, with plenty of sand and a layer of straw in the bottom of it, a dish or two, a bath, a drinking fountain, and always a supply of fresh green weeds on the roof of their domicile. Besides their usual food of soaked bread, etc, they had slugs occasionally, and flies, and earthworms. Once a day the cage-door was thrown open, and out they both would fly with joyful “skraigh” to enjoy the luxury of a bath on the kitchen floor. One would have imagined that, being only two, they would not have stood on the order of their going; but they did, at least Dick did, for he insisted upon using the bath first, and his wife had to wait patiently until his lordship had finished. This was part of Dick’s domestic discipline. When they were both thoroughly wet and draggled, and everything within a radius of two yards was in the same condition, their next move was to hop on to the fender, and flatter and gaze pensively into the fire; and two more melancholy-looking, ragged wretches you never saw. When they began to dry, then they began to dress, and in a few minutes “Richard was himself again,” and so was his wife.
Starlings have their own natural song, and a strange noise they make too. Their great faculty, however, is the gift of imitation, which they have in a wonderful degree of perfection. The first thing that Dick learned to imitate was the rumbling of carts and carriages on the street, and very proud he was of the accomplishment. Then he learned to pronounce his own name, with the prefix “Pretty,” which he never omitted, and to which he was justly entitled. Except when sitting on their perch singing or piping, these two little pets were never tired engineering about their cage, and everything was minutely examined. They were perfect adepts at boring holes; by inserting the bill closed, and opening it like a pair of scissors, lo! the thing was done. Dick’s rule of conduct was that he himself should have the first of everything, and be allowed to examine first into everything, to have the highest perch and all the tit-bits; in a word, to rule, king and priest, in his own cage. I don’t suppose he hated his wife, but he kept her in a state of inglorious subjection to his royal will and pleasure. “Hezekiah” was the name he gave his wife. I don’t know why, but I am sure no one taught him this, for he first used the name himself, and then I merely corrected his pronunciation.
Sometimes Dick would sit himself down to sing a song; and presently his wife would join in with a few simple notes of melody; upon which Dick would stop singing instantly, and look round at her with indignation. “Hezekiah! Hezekiah!” he would say, which being interpreted, clearly meant: “Hezekiah, my dear, how can you so far forget yourself as to presume to interrupt your lord and master, with that cracked and quavering voice of yours?” Then he would commence anew; and Hezekiah being so good-natured, would soon forget her scolding and again join in. This was too much for Dick’s temper; and Hezekiah was accordingly chased round and round the cage and soundly thrashed. His conduct altogether as a husband, I am sorry to say, was very far from satisfactory. I have said he always retained the highest perch for himself; but sometimes he would turn one eye downwards, and seeing Hezekiah sitting so cosily and contentedly on her humble perch, would at once conclude that her seat was more comfortable than his; so down he would hop and send her off at once.
It was Dick’s orders that Hezekiah should only eat at meal-times; that meant at all times when he chose to feed, after he was done. But I suppose his poor wife was often a little hungry in the interim, for she would watch till she got Dick fairly into the middle of a song and quite oblivions of surrounding circumstances, then she would hop down and snatch a meal on the sly. But dire was the punishment far the deceit if Dick found her out. Sometimes I think she used to long for a little love and affection, and at such times she would jump up on the perch beside her husband, and with a fond cry sidle close to him.
“Hezekiah! Hezekiah!” he would exclaim; and if she didn’t take that hint, she was soon knocked to the bottom of the cage. In fact, Dick was a domestic tyrant, but in all other respects a dear affectionate little pet.
One morning Dick got out of his cage by undoing the fastening, and flew through the open window, determined to see what the world was like, leaving Hezekiah to mourn. It was before five on a summer’s morning that he escaped; and I saw no more of him until, coming out of church that day, the people were greatly astonished to see a bird fly down from the steeple and alight upon my shoulder. He retained his perch all the way home. He got so well up to opening the fastening of his cage-door that I had to get a small spring padlock, which defied him, although he studied it for months, and finally gave it up, as being one of those things which no fellow could understand.
Dick soon began to talk, and before long had quite a large vocabulary of words, which he was never tired using. As he grew very tame, he was allowed to live either out of his cage or in it all day long as he pleased. Often he would be out in the garden all alone for hours together, running about catching flies, or sitting up in a tree repeating his lessons to himself, both verbal and musical. The cat and her kittens were his especial favourites, although he used to play with the dogs as well, and often go to sleep on their backs. He took his lessons with great regularity, was an arduous student, and soon learned to pipe “Duncan Grey” and “The Sprig of Shillelah” without a single wrong note. I used to whistle these tunes over to him, and it was quite amusing to mark his air of rapt attention as he crouched down to listen. When I had finished, he did not at once