In Scotland and the North of England I have frequently observed the same kind of thing happen, and especially during severe winters, not a female to be seen for weeks together, and the males all congregated in little flocks. In the South and West of England, however, both sexes remain together, as a rule, and, associating with their relatives, the Common Sparrows, hunt farmyards and gardens for corn, seeds, and any other unconsidered trifles they may chance to pick up. However gloomy the conditions of existence may be, the brave Chaffinch is always sprightly, vigorous, and cheerful, a characteristic which may be plainly seen in our illustration of birds feeding on the snow. The call note of the species is a loud, ringing _spink, spink_, which is also used as an alarm cry. In the spring the male utters in addition a very sweet one sounding something like _tu-wheet, tu-wheet_. During flight the bird makes use of another note, which is difficult to render by the characters of the alphabet, but may, perhaps, be best represented by the letters _tuke_. The song is repeated thousands of times per day in the early part of the breeding season. It is a very sprightly performance, like a merry old English catch, _tol-de-rol, lol, chickweedo_, which has been very aptly likened to the words, “Will you, will you kiss me, dear?” Some people consider it a monotonous affair, but in spite of the fact that I have heard it repeated twenty-one times in four minutes it is always to me, “A full, clear, sprightly ringing ditty.” It varies greatly in individuals, and although London bird-catchers consider an Essex Chaffinch superior to all others as a singer, I prefer to listen to some members of the species I have heard cheering the dark solitude of great Highland pine forests. [Illustration: CHAFFINCHES, SPARROWS, AND STARLING FEEDING IN WINTER.] German workmen are great Chaffinch fanciers. One has been known to exchange a cow for a clever vocalist of this species, and another to live upon bread-and-water until he had saved the high price of a prime favourite. It is, I must confess, always a saddening experience for me to hear this little songster’s notes ringing clear and sweet from the interior of a wee prison house tied up in a black cloth, and carried along some dismal street beneath the arm of a costermonger. However, it is only fair to add that these men are, as a rule, devoted to their pets, and treat them with the utmost kindness. A great authority upon the subject says that if well treated a Chaffinch will live in confinement for twenty years. It has also been asserted as a curious fact that if an adult male Chaffinch is caught before Whitsuntide he will sing in a cage, but if he should be made a prisoner after this date he will die of grief at being parted from his mate and young ones.