
nor got nj) himself, till I was called, and then he had a particular
call if he fancied I was gone to sleep again. Once, from being
frightened, he flew out of the window, and being recovered after
much trouble, (it was in a town,) he never again offered to get out.
After this we had nets at the window, and the net being one day
left down in my room, by running up to my mother and then into
my room he attracted her notice, and she followed him, he standing
before the window, and when the net was replaced shewing himself
satisfied. Unlike most pets, he died a natural death on the 1st. of
J a n u a r y , 1843.'
Bishop Stanley writes, ' W e arc not indeed without instances of wild
Turkeys at this day in our own country, and a curious anecdote has
reached us of a friendship taking place between a flock of these birds
and a Partridge. It occurred at Tyninghame, in Scotland, where there
is a breed of Turkeys which never enter into the poultry-house or
yard, but roost in the trees, and live chiefly on beech-mast and anything
else they can pick up, though they are tame enough to come
about the house to be fed in the time of frost and snow. About eight
or ten years ago, a cock P a r t r i d g e , full grown, suddenly joined himself
t o a flock of these T u r k e y s , and remained with them constantly during
the whole summer, autumn, and winter: at night he slept under the
trees in which they roosted; in the day he fed with them, and was
not the least frightened or disturbed by people walking among them,
l i e took great liberties with the old Turkey cock; when he saw him
going to pick up a worm or any seed, he used to run under him
between his legs and snatch it out of his mouth, the Turkey cock
never resenting the indignity. Early in the spring he left them, as it
was supposed to find himself a mate for the pairing-season, hut in
the beginning of autumn he rejoined his old friends, and continued
w i t h them as formerly until the next pairing-time, when he again
disappeared, but returned no more, having probably been killed.'
He a d d s — ' I n a clergyman's family one was reared which became
so familiar, that it would attend the parlour at breakfast and other
times, and would afterwards stretch itself before the fire, seeming to
enjoy the warmth, as if it were its natural bask on a sunny bank.
The dogs of the house never molested it, but unfortunately it one day
fell under the paws of a strange cat, and was killed.' The hen Part
r i d g e displays great pertinacity in keeping on her nest, and offers a
bold resistance to any feathered plunderers; but if quietly approached,
will suffer herself sometimes to he touched, and even to be removed
with the eggs, which she will continue to sit upon and will hatch;
but then, witli her brood, she will naturally endeavour to return to
the fields. The young, if approached, will sometimes lie close, ' w i th
listening ears and watchful eyes,' but if the intruder comes too near,
will start off with a faint cry.
I n winter they sometimes pack together in large companies of as
many as thirty or forty, especially in wild and open parts of the
country. Single survivors of other coveys are taken into the community.
Partridges are easily tamed to a certain extent, so as even
to take food from the hands of strangers, and have been known to
lay in confinement. Sir Thomas Maryon "Wilson, Bart., had seven or
eight young ones reared in his aviary at Charlton, in the summer of
1842. Part of a brood of young ones brought up under a hen, after
having been set at liberty a mile off, have been known to return and
be fed by the person who before had had the care of them during
the winter months. Another evinced great personal attachment to a
lady, and would sit for hours on the back of her chair, and roost
near the head of her bed at night, never failing to show every
symptom of distress and concern during her occasional absences. If
alarmed, the Partridge, proverbial for timidity, cowers down, or runs
of with great rapidity, as it may be likewise seen to do in pursuit
of its companions; or, if closely pressed, takes wing.
In their flight, which is strong and rather quick, they gradually
rise to a little height, and then fly off in a direct course, with a loud
' w h i r r ' — t h e effect of the quick pulsation of the wings. At the end
of a long flight, after being disturbed, they finish in a sailing manner,
and alight sidelong. In feeding, the back is arched u p , and if alarmed
the head is raised erect, and thus the bird walks about, till, if need
be, it runs along, and then takes wing. If they lie close it is very
difficult to see them.
They feed in the mornings and evenings, and live on grain, beans,
and seeds, worms, caterpillars, beetles, and other insects, as also in
times of scarcity on turnip tops and roots, young clover, or probably
any tender leaves: the young arc at first fed with insects—ants and
their eggs especially, if there arc any to he met with. The Partridge
must do far more good than harm, devouring immense numbers of
noxious insects, wireworms and others, as well as the seeds of injurious
plants; at the same time some little injury is caused by their scratching
and picking up grains of newly-sown wheat, and eating the young
green shoots that have come up. They suffer much, it is said, in
times of deep snow from want of food, but nevertheless are such hardy
birds, that they support themselves on what little they can find under
hedges, and I have never known one to approach a house, as so many
other birds do in such circumstances, nor have seen one that appeared