ut his voice; but I was
disappointed in both respects, for he never became familiar in the
least, and though not at all afraid he was very shy; and furthermore,
upon my bringing into the room two small musical thrushes, the
grosbeak--feeling, as I said, no need of utterance--readily relapsed
into silence, and all the winter never sang a note. His conduct before
the looking-glass indicated that he was not naturally so silent, and
that he could be social with one who understood his language. Being
unable to get another grosbeak, I tried to give him companionship by
placing a small glass against one end of his cage. On seeing his
reflection the bird was greatly agitated, began his low, whining cry,
postured, bowed, turned, moved back and forth, and at last left the cage
and looked for the stranger behind the glass. Not finding him he
returned, had another interview with the misleading image, and ended as
before in seeking him outside. At length he seemed to be convinced that
there was something not quite natural about it, for, feeling hungry, he
went, with many a backward glance at the glass, to the floor, took a
hemp-seed and carried it out into the room to eat, a thing he never did
at any other time.

I spoke of my bird's posturing; that was one of his pleasures, and
almost his only exercise while he lived in the house. He was not
graceful, his body was not flexible, and his tail was far from being the
expressive member it is with many birds, it always stood straight out;
he could raise it with a little jerk, and he had a beautiful way of
opening it like a fan, but I never saw it droop or stir in any other
way. In these movements his head and tail maintained the same relative
position to the body, as though they were cut out of one piece of wood;
but he bowed and leaned far over on one side, with his short legs wide
spread; he passed down a perch, alternately crouching and rising, either
sideways or straight; he jerked his whole body one side and then the
other, in a manner ludicrously suggestive of a wriggle; he sidled along
his perch, holding his wings slightly out and quivering, then slowly
raised them both straight up, and instantly dropped them, or held them
half open, fluttering and rustling his feathers.

He had also a curious way of moving over a long perch: he proceeded by
sidewise hops, and at each hop he turned half round, that is, the first
step he faced the window, the next the room, the third the window ag