about the matter, declared that they also thought them all mostly
females; at least fifty to one. This extraordinary occurrence brought
to my mind the remark of Linnaeus; that 'before winter, all their
hen chaffinches migrate through Holland into Italy.' Now I want to
know, from some curious person in the north, whether there are
any large flocks of these finches with them in the winter, and of
which sex they mostly consist? For, from such intelligence, one
might be able to judge whether our female flocks migrate from the
other end of the island, or whether they come over to us from the
continent.

We have, in the winter, vast flocks of the common linnets; more, I
think, than can be bred in any one district. These, I observe, when
the spring advances, assemble on some tree in the sunshine, and
join all in a gentle sort of chirping, as if they were about to break
up their winter quarters and betake themselves to their proper
summer homes. It is well known, at least, that the swallows and the
fieldfares do congregate with a gentle twittering before they make
their respective departure.

You may depend on it that the bunting, emberiza miliaria, does not
leave this country in the winter. In January 1767 I saw several
dozen of them, in the midst of a severe frost, among the bushes on
the downs near Andover: in our woodland enclosed district it is a
rare bird.

Wagtails, both white and yellow, are with us all the winter. Quails
crowd to our southern coast, and are often killed in numbers by
people that go on purpose.