LONDONERS AS BIRD-LOVERS

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XX, Issue 239, 27 September 1930, Page 9

LONDONERS AS BIRD-LOVERS

The feature of London that more than anything surprises the countryman who is in town for a visit is the wonderful tameness of the birds that have made this vast area of streets, buildings, squares and parks, their home. He has heard of St. Paul’s Cathedral, of the Tower, of the Houses of Parliament, of Piccadilly Circus, and all the other well-known sights of London. If he has not already seen them, he has read about them, seen pictures of them in the papers and seen them on the screen at his local cinema. Consequently, when he does see them, he takes them rather much for granted. The crowds and the traffic call up in him wonderment, but, if ho is a true countryman, with an understanding or a lovo, for wild things, he yyill be most astonished at the difference between the behaviour of London’s very many birds and that of their country cousins. The average country dweller has not yet reached the desirable state < f the Scandinavian who takes a pride in befriending birds. Indeed, a great deal of misguided persecution is carried on by British agriculturists against birds which they believe do harm to their crops, while rural boys are ardent “birds’ Hosiers.” The result is that the natural wariness of birds has increased until many species have become particularly retiring. In the country, therefore, if one is to watch certain birds, a pair of strong field glasses is necessary. Even the notoriously tame robin comes io the kitchen door warily and, evidentIv. against his own better judgment. In London everything is different. Mon and birds look upon each other ns friends. They take the nir together in harmony and, to the bewilderment of the countryman, sock the company of each other. FRIENDLY BIRDS. In the streets the ptgeons are careful to go to no undue trouble to escape the feet of passing people. They feed in their hundreds under the shadow of St. Paul’s, and on the Embankment. Traffic is treated with complete contempt by them as they sidestep or dodge at the last minute. The Londoner feeds them with grain or with bread and the bolder pigeons take their food from his hands. Better examples of the extreme friendliness of London’s birds are to be found in the parks. In them one learns that, though the townsman may know very little about birds, and though he may not bo able to distinguish one from another, be has the happy art of making friends with them.

In Hyde Park or Kensington Gardens, if you have so much as half a loaf of bread, one may bo sure of finding a few hundred new feathered friends. The sparrows, London’s commonest of all birds, not merely accept one; they gather round eagerly in their scores. They hover around a stranger and stand on his hand, so long as there are crumbs on it. If the day is wet, they leave many muddy little footprints on the fingers, while on the ground below there is a mass of sparrows who lack just that last grain of courage that is needed for taking food from human hands, though they have no fear of human feet and cluster round eagerly for the crumbs that fall.

While this is happening a wood pigeon, one of the wariest of birds in its natural state, will quite probably make a surprise landing on one’s arm or shoulder. The wood pigeons, or ring doves, strut round with all the dignity of their pink breasts, sleek gray backs and white neckbands, and they “coo” from the trees with a note as soft and lethargic as one might hear in any Surrey wood. The graceful blackbacked gull is always to.be found, except during the actual breeding season. He will perform the most daring aerial acrobatics for pieces of bi;ead thrown to him as he flashes through the air, either beside the park lakes or above the Thames. He swoops and dives so ably that he usually catches the food thrown to him long before it reaches the water. The bolder birds will even snatch titbits from the fingers as they sweep by. HABITS OH DUCKS. There are multitudes of ducks. Many of them cannot be regarded as more than imported, and almost domesticated, birds. They come from all parts of the world, including America. Mallards, or wild duck, are there in plenty, but there is no more “wildness” about them than there is in the barn-door fowl.

Most interesting among the ducks aro the bright eyed, black and white, tufted ducks. They are smaller than the others, but they make up for this with their ability to dive and swim brilliantly. They will seize a piece of bread almost from the beak of a larger duck and then submerge suddenly, before appearing again some distance away where they can eat their meal peacefully. The pochard duck, which visits the parks in the winter, is an inveterate traveller. Ho is not quite so friendly to the Londoner ns the other ducks, but he has coine all the wav from the Arctic Circle, a.nd has not had the opportunity of studying the townsman to anv great extent. The countryman finds that not only ore tho birds so much tamer here *n tho town, but that ho is also bad the opportunity of watching many birds that ho has never had tho opportunity of seeing at home. He is the first to admit that the townsman has made a brilliant success of being a bird lover, while the countryman himself has merely managed to be a sportsman. ♦ * * * ON HAND-SHAKING On meeting a young lady who had just entered th© garden, and shaking hands with her, “I must,” he said, “give you a lesson in shaking hands, I see. There is nothing more characteristic than shakes of tho hand. I have classified them. Lister, when ho was here, illustrated some of them. Ask Mrs Sydney to show you his. sketches of them when you go in. There is th© high official—th© body erect, and a rapid, short shake, near the chin There is th© mortmain —tho flat hand introduced into your palm, and hardly conscious of its contiguity. Th© digital—one finger held out, much used by the high clergy There is th© shakus rusticus, where vour hand is seized in an iron grasp, betokening rude health, warm heart and distance from the Metropolis; but producing a strong sense of relief on your part when you find vour hand released and your fingers unbroken The next to this is the retentive shake—one which, beginning with vigour, pauses as it were to take breath, but without relinquishing its prejj and before you are aware begins again, till yon feel anxious as to the result, and have no shake left in you. There are other varieties, but this is enough for one lc:'..un.”—Sydney Smith, “Works.’’