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There can, however, be no possible reason why the Siskin should not occasionally visit Guernsey on migration, as it extends its southern journey through Spain to the Mediterranean and across to the North-western Coast of Africa; and the Channel Islands would seem to lie directly in its way.
"Yes, well, Dick said, 'Now, Siskin, I don't know any of the pretty ladies here, and I'm going to dance with you. But when Aunt Emmeline came up and insisted upon introducing him to a lot of girls, he went off as nicely as possible and danced with the whole lot of them. And, you know, a man like Dick isn't supposed to have to do that sort of thing."
This was the bird called "goldfinch" by the English resident in La Plata, and to the Spanish it is also goldfinch; it is, however, a siskin, Chrysomitris magellanica, and has a velvet-black head, the rest of its plumage being black, green, and shining yellow.
The baby stared at the siskin, and chuckled. 'That's uncle, said Fenitchka, bending her face down to him and slightly rocking him, while Dunyasha quietly set in the window a smouldering perfumed stick, putting a halfpenny under it. 'How many months old is he? asked Pavel Petrovitch. 'Six months; it will soon be seven, on the eleventh.
"Well, you haven't hit one yet," I was bold enough to say, and at that he stopped, and putting his finger and thumb in his waistcoat pocket he pulled out a dead male siskin and put it in my hands.
There was also a cross-row of poplars dividing the gardens and buildings from the plantation, and these were the favourite nesting-trees of two of our best-loved birds the beautiful little goldfinch or Argentine siskin, and the bird called firewood-gatherer by the natives on account of the enormous collection of sticks which formed the nest.
If a siskin or a chaffinch could have spoken, and had begun declaring that it would peck another bird to death, it would not have reduced me to greater amazement than did Ivan at that moment. What! Suhys' Vania, that dancing, jesting, comic fellow, the favourite playfellow of children, and a child himself, that kindest-hearted of creatures, a murderer! What ridiculous nonsense!
We'll come up to see you on Sunday after mass." "Come," Smolin nodded his head. "We'll come up. They'll ring the bell soon. I must run to sell the siskin," declared Yozhov, pulling out of his pocket a paper package, wherein some live thing was struggling. And he disappeared from the school-yard as mercury from the palm of a hand.
"Who wrote this rubbish?" he asked, looking over his glasses at Mrs. Clinton. "I did, father," said Cicely, blushing. "Good for you, Siskin!" broke in Dick. "Very well done. It gives the entertainment an air." "I helped with the accents," said Angela. "Well," said the Squire, "I don't like it.
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