IT was during a visit, some twelve months ago, that I was afforded a useful object-lesson. My hostess possessed two tame bullfinches, as alike in appearance as they were different in character. Their respective cages were hung on either side of the window, and it was customary for them to have their freedom during our meals, when they would fly about the room, perching according to inclination upon various pieces of furniture or objects upon the table, one of the two often alighting upon its owner's hand or shoulder. While enjoying my first impression of what seemed a quite fascinating picture, their mistress related differences in their ways and habits which later I was able to observe for myself.
One, I noticed, was more fearless, more vivacious, apparently happier than its companion, and in perfect harmony with its surroundings. Directly its cage door was opened it would fly down to the table and join with us in whatever meal was in progress. Seeds, chickweed, and similar attractions were strewed about the table for the benefit of both, and my feathered friend under discussion rejoiced at everything he was privileged to enjoy during the half hour available before returning to his cage. In every sense he was a most engaging and interesting study, and would have delighted the hearts of any bird lovers, could they have been present on these occasions. Alert, observant, of an investigating and inquiring turn of mind, nothing seemed to escape notice, and it was obvious he appreciated to the utmost all that offered itself by way of enjoyment, and from time to time would pipe forth what might well have passed as a song of rejoicing and thanksgiving.
With his companion, however, it was otherwise. While sharing equal privileges, he appeared unable to enter into that spirit of appreciation of liberty—with all that went in attendance—which meant so much to the other. Upon his cage door being unfastened, it would as often as not be several minutes before he flew out, and when he did so he would invariably make several circular flights about the room, and return to the cage again, to emerge perhaps later on, if he thought his companion was enjoying that from which he, by remaining in his cage, was necessarily debarred. Then he would perhaps join us, but more often he would flutter down to the floor, concealing himself beneath table, chairs, etc., apparently preferring to grope about in dark and out-of-the-way places, thus excluding himself from those good things which the other would be enjoying elsewhere. In every respect the contrast in their behavior was so noticeable that at once I drew a parallel from it.
