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Updated: May 18, 2025
SIR, I am surprised that any of your Correspondents should doubt that birds eat snow. There is a bull-finch in my aviary, and I tried him. He ate it ravenously. Strange to say, he has not uttered a sound since! My wife says, "Probably his pipe is frozen." This is such a good joke, I think you ought to have it. Yours, LOVER OF NATURE.
My nephew says he should not have believed a mule could be so clever, if he had not seen it. Yours obediently, SAMUEL SOBERSIDES. SIR, Since writing you that letter about our bull-finch, I have discovered an even more surprising fact, which I am sure no Naturalist has yet dreamed of. Not only do birds appreciate snow, but they are very fond of iced beverages.
The wide vaults of the woods are finely bedecked with red and yellow splendor, and albeit the voices of birds are few, albeit the cry of the jay, and the song of the nightingale, and the pipe of the bull-finch must be mute, the greenwood is not more dumb than in the Spring; the hunter's horn rings through the trees and away far over their tops, with the baying of the hounds, the clapping of the drivers, and the huntsmen shouting the view halloo.
The wide vaults of the woods are finely bedecked with red and yellow splendor, and albeit the voices of birds are few, albeit the cry of the jay, and the song of the nightingale, and the pipe of the bull-finch must be mute, the greenwood is not more dumb than in the Spring; the hunter's horn rings through the trees and away far over their tops, with the baying of the hounds, the clapping of the drivers, and the huntsmen shouting the view halloo.
Even the fields are separated by hedges of sweet-smelling double pink roses, and these hedges are larger than many a 'bull-finch' in the old country. After a delightful gallop of about two hours, we returned to the farmhouse, where we found a fresh pair of horses waiting for us in the break, and drove back to Santiago by moonlight.
'I'm going to cut your comb. And he took the old horse by head, and rammed him at us slap-bang, like riding at a bull-finch; and the whole blanky lot after him." The Parson was stamping up and down, roaring out his story, his eyes laughing and battle-lusty. "Such a hell of a hugger-mugger you never saw! They rolled in on us like the sea.
The wide vaults of the woods are finely bedecked with red and yellow splendor, and albeit the voices of birds are few, albeit the cry of the jay, and the song of the nightingale, and the pipe of the bull-finch must be mute, the greenwood is not more dumb than in the Spring; the hunter's horn rings through the trees and away far over their tops, with the baying of the hounds, the clapping of the drivers, and the huntsmen shouting the view halloo.
"I suppose I am stupid, if you think so," said poor Fanferlot humbly. "Well, after he had done blustering about the letters, M. le marquis dressed, and went out. He did not want his carriage, but I saw him hire a cab at the hotel door. I thought he had perhaps disappeared forever; but I was mistaken. About five o'clock he returned as gay as a bull-finch.
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