JAMRACH’S ANIMAL STORE.

In March, 1861, I received a note from Mr. Jamrach, the celebrated dealer in living animals, that he wished me to come at once and see a curious sight at his establishment, 164 Katcliff Highway, facing the entrance to the London Docks. Accordingly I went.

“Well, Jamrach, what now?”

“You shall see, sir.”

He took me upstairs, and opened the door of a room, and there I saw such a sight as really made me start. The moment the door-handle was touched, I heard a noise which I can compare to nothing but the beating of a very heavy storm of rain upon the glass of a greenhouse: I cautiously entered the room, and then saw that it was one mass, windows and walls, of living Australian grass parakeets. When they saw us the birds began to chatter, and such a din I never heard before.

On our advancing a step into the room, all the birds flew up in a dense cloud, flying about just like a crowd of gnats on a hot summer’s evening, their wings causing a considerable rush of air, like the wind from a winnowing machine. Such a number of birds I never saw before together in all my life.

“Why, Jamrach, how many, for goodness’ sake, are there?”

“Well, sir, you see, two ships, the ‘ Orient’ and the ‘Golden Star,’ came in from Port Adelaide, Australia; both ships had birds on board; I bought the lot, and have now three thousand pair of them. There are plenty of people about who would buy twenty, thirty, or a hundred pair, but I took the whole lot of 3,000 pair at a venture, and I am pleased to say we are doing very well with them, and we have not, as yet, lost very many.

The ‘Golden Star’ birds are the strongest, as there were not above twenty or thirty pair in a cage; the ‘Orient’s’ birds die faster, as there were from 200 to 300 pair in a cage. You see, sir, I have put them in two unfurnished rooms;” saying which, he opened the door of another room, and there I saw another edition of the first room, viz. another living mass of these beautiful little birds. Jamrach had fitted up a series of common laths from the floor of the room to near the ceiling, the laths being one above the other; and when the birds got a little quiet, there they sat all of a row —eight to the foot I counted—just like a number of our noble selves on the benches at a public assembly, making a continuous clatter and noise.

Jamrach gave me a couple of dead ones. Their markings are as follows :—A lustrous green breast and body, yellow on the top of the head, and a species of beard on each side of the beak, pencilled with the most lovely violet; back of head and wings yellow, barred with black; tail blue, and body above the tail emerald green. They are about the size of a good big lark, and are very commonly sold at the London bird shops.

Jamrach having shown me the six thousand parakeets, asked me to go into his yard—an invitation which, of course, I accepted. In one little bit of a stable-yard, including the stalls and the loft, I saw the following miscellaneous collection of birds and beasts, all alive and well cared for:—One female zebra, one female wapiti deer, two llamas, four pairs of black swans, one fine jaguar, four emus, one kangaroo, four opossums (one being perfectly white), four pairs of curassows, one male axis deer, five wedge-tailed eagles, one pelican, one sea eagle, one griffin vulture, two Magellanic geese, one Cereopsis goose, one pair of Japanese pheasants, four pair of masked pigs from Japan, one Virginian owl, one pair of porcupines, two maraboos; and, in the next yard, a fine pair of double-humped camels, a fine male yak from Chinese Tartary, and a pair of bisons from the park of the late Marquis of Breadalbane.

All these birds and beasts were for sale.

Emily’s were brought by Tammy the black, who had taken them young. He called the bird the budgereegar, which signifies the good or beautiful bird, showing that even these (sic)savage blacks can appreciate what is most lovely in nature.

The male bird utters a sweet warbling note as he sits by the side of his wife, while she listens attentively, sometimes cooing and rubbing her beak affectionately against his. They do not feed themselves with their claws, as is the custom with other parrots but take up their food with their beaks.

Sometimes the affectionate husband will turn round as if in fun, and screech loudly in his wife’s ear, when she retaliates by giving him a bite, telling him not to make so much noise.

Called “Bidgerigung” by the natives. This beautiful little Euphema visits South Australia about the end of August or the beginning of September, and remains until some time after the breeding season. It is perhaps the most numerous of the summer birds. I remember, in 1838, being at the head of St. Vincent’s Gulf, early in September, and seeing flights of these birds, and . . . . . following each other in numbers of from 50 to 100 along the coast line, like starlings following a line of coast. They came directly from the north, and all kept the same straight line, or in each other’s wake. Both birds subsequently disperse over the province. The plumage of this bird is a bright yellow, scalloped black, and three or four beautiful deep blue spots over each side the cheek.

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HOUSE OF PARAKEETS

DEPT. B-29

304 KANSAS AVE. TOPEKA, KANSAS

Source: Popular Mechanics, 1952

Budgerigars Changing Colour.—

Some eight years ago, a Belgian breeder of these birds had a pair (of aviary-bred descent for several generations) that produced a brood of young in which pale yellow was the predominant colour, and the characteristic undulations of the species were replaced by the faintest pencillings of grey. A couple of years afterwards, some of the descendants of these little birds were exhibited at the Alexandra Palace, where they attracted considerable notice, receiving an “extra first prize,” and were readily sold for £6 a pair, about their weight in gold.

The “sport” appears then to have passed into the hands of a well known London dealer, who, by judicious management, has succeeded in obtaining a uniformly yellow bird, without a trace of its origin about it, excepting the pale blue cere of the male, and the dazzling white of the little spots on the throat, which in the ordinary budgerigar are cerulean blue.

This dealer has also some pale green birds of the same species that are almost as large as a turquoisine. A blue variety of the undulated parrakeet has recently, I understand, been obtained in Germany; so that we may soon expect to have budgerigars bred of all colours, and so different in appearance from the parent stork, as to puzzle ornithologists unacquainted with their origin. I would recommend readers of Science-gossip interested in the matter to pay an early visit to the establishment of Mr. Joseph Abrahams, 192 St. George Street East, London, who will be pleased to show them his yellow budgerigars, even if they do not spend a penny in the place.— W, T. Greene, M.A., F.Z.S.

Source: Hardwicke’s science-gossip: an illustrated medium of interchange and gossip

for students and lovers of nature, Volume 18

Every one knows the budgerigar—also called the undulated grass parrakeet—but every one is not aware that he can by a little patience and perseverance be converted into a most charming pet, and taught to perform all sorts of clever and amusing tricks. One of these birds that I once possessed had learned of his own accord to sing like a canary, and I have received accurate and reliable information concerning other individuals of the same species that actually learned to repeat quite a number of words, which, however, I do not consider very extraordinary, in view of the conformation of this bird’s beak and throat, seeing that I have also owned a genuine talking canary, and have seen bullfinches, blackbirds, and starlings that had the faculty of imitating the human voice . . . . .

Source: Harper’s Magazine (1887)

The cage in which they were bought was so small that they broke the long feathers in their tails against the wires, so we put them into a very large parrot’s cage, which they liked very much, as they had plenty of room to exercise their wings in it. Every day in the summer time the cage was put out on to the lawn, much to the surprise of the sparrows and other birds that came to feed at the window, who hopped round it looking very much perplexed at the sight of such strange specimens of their own tribe. In doing this, we ran a great risk of losing them, though we did not know it at the time. Once when my mother was alone in the room with them, writing her letters, she heard a scuffling noise in the cage, and looking up saw “Husbandy” with his head and shoulders through the wires, and “Wifey” standing on the perch behind, pushing him and doing all she could to help him through. In another minute he was out and flying against the window, which fortunately happened to be shut.

We caught him and put him back, but soon found that this was quite useless trouble, for in a few minutes he was out again, and after sitting on the back of a chair near the cage and chattering to his Wifey for a short time, he flew on to the top of it, and squeezing himself through, dropped on to the highest perch. He was very fond of his mate and never went far from the cage when he came out, even clinging to it as we carried it from room to room. So we did not mind his being free in the winter time when windows and doors were shut. But I think Wifey became jealous of his freedom, for she used to run about in a very unquiet way when he left her alone, and before long took to pecking his feet as he climbed about the wires. At last she found out, or he showed her, the way to escape, and one morning they were both found flying about in the kitchen, where they slept for warmth.

As they were likely to be troublesome, now that there was nothing to keep them near the cage, the poor little birds had to be put back into their old one, where they looked very dull and discontented for some weeks. But when Bertha’s birthday came my father gave her a nice new cage, that was made on purpose for them. It was very large, but the wires were near enough together to prevent their getting out, and the wood-work was bound with tin, so that they could not peck at it. The little parrots were delighted with their new home, and directly they were put into it flew on to one of the perches and sat shrieking with pleasure and flapping their wings, as though to make up for their long confinement.

Bertha, though she was so successful with most birds, never managed to make the parakeets any tamer than they were when we first had them, and they did not care at all for us. So we gave them to a friend who was very fond of parrots, and had a great gift of taming them and making them like her. They are, I believe, still alive, but I do not know whether their present mistress has succeeded in winning their affection.

It is a native of Australia, and may be found in almost all the central portions of that land, whence it has been imported in such great numbers as an inhabitant of our aviaries, that when Dr. Bennett was last in England, he found that he could purchase the birds at a cheaper rate in England than in New South Wales. This graceful little creature derives its name of Grass Parrakeet from its fondness for the grass lands, where it may be seen in great numbers, running amid the thick grass blades, clinging to their stems, or feeding on their seeds. It is always an inland bird, being very seldom seen between the mountain ranges and the coasts.

Of the habits of this bird Mr. Gould writes as follows: “I found myself surrounded by numbers, breeding in all the hollow spouts of the large Eucalypti bordering the Mokai; and on crossing the plains between that river and the Peel, in the direction of the Turi mountains, I saw them in flocks of many hundreds, feeding upon the grass seeds that are there abundant. So numerous were they, that I determined to encamp upon the spot, in order to observe their habits and to procure specimens. The nature of their food and the excessive heat of these plains compel them frequently to seek the water; hence my camp, which was pitched near some small fords, was constantly surrounded by large numbers, arriving in flocks varying from twenty to a hundred or more.

The hours at which they were most numerous were early in the morning, and some time before dark in the evening. Before going down to drink, they alight on the neighbouring trees, settling together in clusters, sometimes on the dead branches, and at others on the drooping boughs of the Eucalypti. Their flight is remarkably straight and rapid, and is generally accompanied by a screeching noise. During the heat of the day, when sitting motionless among the leaves of the gum-trees, they so closely assimilate in colour, particularly on the breast, that they are with difficulty detected.”

The voice of this bird is quite unlike the rough screeching sounds in which Parrots seem to delight, and is a gentle, soft, warbling kind of song, which seems to be contained within the body, and is not poured out with that decision which is usually found in birds that can sing, however small their efforts may be. This song, if it may be so called, belongs only to the male bird, who seems to have an idea that his voice must be very agreeable to his mate, for in light warm weather he will warble nearly all day long, and often pushes his beak almost into the ear of his mate, so as to give her the full benefit of his song. The lady, however, does not seem to appreciate his condescension as he wishes, and sometimes pecks him sharply in return. Dr. Bennett observes that the bird has some ventriloquial powers, as he has noticed a Grass Parrakeet engaged in the amusement of imitating two birds, one warbling and the other chirping.

The food of this Parrakeet consists almost chiefly of seeds, those of the grass plant being their constant food in their native country. In England they take well to canary seed, and it is somewhat remarkable that they do not pick up food with their feet, but always with their beaks. It is a great mistake to confine these lively little birds in a small cage, as their wild habits are peculiarly lively and active, and require much space. The difference between a Grass Parrakeet when in a little cage and after it has been removed into a large house, where it has plenty of space to move about, is really wonderful

This species has frequently bred in England, and nest-making is of very common occurrence, though it often happens that the female deserts her eggs before they are hatched. A correspondent of the Field newspaper, Mr. Moore, of Fareham, writes as follows:

“Having been very successful in breeding most of our British birds in cages, I was induced to try the Australian Parrakeet, commonly known as the Grass Warbling Parrakeet, and I now have the pleasure of making known to you what I consider my most extraordinary success. Between the 24th of December last and the present month, I have reared eleven from one pair, and having watched their habits very carefully, I venture to make a few remarks upon them.

They do not build a nest as most birds do, but must have a piece of wood with a rough hole in the middle, and this they will finish to their liking. Let it be kept private, and let them pass through a hole to the nesting-place. When the hen has laid, take the egg out, putting a false one in its place till four have been laid. This should be attended to, as she only lays on alternate days, and the young would be so far apart in hatching. By so doing I have ascertained the exact time of incubation, and have found it to be seventeen days. I mention this, as persons might otherwise be led astray. These birds feed their young in the same manner as pigeons; the young never gape, but the old ones take the beak in their mouths, aud by a peculiar process disgorge the food, which the young take at the same moment. They begin to breed in December, that being their summer. The young are so tame that they will fly after me anywhere.”

In another instance, mentioned in the same journal, the birds laid their eggs upon some sawdust and there hatched two young, the number of eggs having been three. This Parrakeet will breed more than once in the season. The young birds get on very fast after hatching, provided that the room be kept warm and the parent well supplied with food. At thirty days of age the young Parrakeet has been observed to feed itself from the seed-drawer of its cage. Groundsel seems to be a favourite diet with them, but it seems that lettuce does not agree with their constitution. With this exception, the Grass Parrakeet may be fed precisely in the same manner as the canary.

In its native land it is a migratory bird, assembling after the breeding season in enormous flocks as a preparation for their intended journey. The general number of the eggs is three or four, and they are merely laid in the holes of the gum-tree without requiring a nest.

The general colour of this pretty bird is dark mottled green, variegated with other colours. The forehead is yellow, and the head, the nape of the neck, the upper part of the back, the scapularies and the wing-coverts are light yellowish green, each feather being marked with a crescentrshaped spot of brown near the tip, so as to produce the peculiar mottling so characteristic of the species. These markings are very small on the head, and increase in size on the back, and from their shape the bird  is sometimes called the Shell or Scallop Parrot.

On each cheek there is a patch of deep blue, below which are three circular spots of the same rich hue. The wings are brown, having their outer webs deep green, roped with a yellower tint. The throat is yellow, aud the abdomen and whole under surface light grass-green. The two central tail-feathers are blue, and the remainder green, each with an oblique band of yellow in the middle.

The young birds have the scallopings all over the head, and the females are coloured almost exactly like their mate, who may be distinguished by the cere of the upper part of the beak being of a deep purple.

Source: The Illustrated Natural History , G. Routledge (1872)

Filed under: History of budgies | Natural Tagged: 1870s, Australian Parakeet, Australian parakeets, budgies, grass parakeets, Scallop Parrots, Zebra Parakeets ]]> http://allaboutbudgies.wordpress.com/2011/11/25/grass-or-zebra-parakeet-the-illustrated-natural-history-g-routledge-1872-all-about-budgies/feed/ 0 evelynyvonnetheriault Warbling Grass Parakeets http://allaboutbudgies.wordpress.com/2011/11/23/undulated-grass-parrakeet-or-budgerigar-1884-source-parrots-in-captivity-by-f-g-dutton/ http://allaboutbudgies.wordpress.com/2011/11/23/undulated-grass-parrakeet-or-budgerigar-1884-source-parrots-in-captivity-by-f-g-dutton/#comments Wed, 23 Nov 2011 02:07:07 +0000 Evelyn Yvonne Theriault http://allaboutbudgies.wordpress.com/?p=21 ]]> UNDULATED GRASS PARRAKEET OR BUDGERIGAR

This charming little bird is a deservedly general favourite, no less from the beauty of its plumage than its great docility, and the readiness with which it adapts itself to aviary life, often nesting in captivity under the most unfavourable combination of circumstances, e.g., in a common canary breeding-cage, placed in an ordinary sitting-room, or a dealer’s shop. It is perfectly hardy, and may be safely wintered out of doors, provided that a place of shelter be prepared for it, to which it can retire, when it pleases, from the rain and cold. In such an aviary as that described in the Introduction it will thrive and multiply in a manner to rejoice the heart of its owner.

The length of this bird is about seven inches, of which the tail measures about three-and-a-half. The general colour of the plumage is grass-green, which harmonises so exactly with the surrounding vegetation that it can with difficulty be detected by the observer, whether the bird be reposing in the shade among the boughs of the gum-trees or busily engaged in feeding upon the seeds of the grass that form its usual diet.

The head of the adult Budgerigar is of a pale primrose colour; the neck, shoulders, and wing-coverts are yellowish-green, each feather being edged with a crescented border of grey, which gives to that part of the plumage a scalloped or undulated appearance, whence the bird derives the names by which it is known among English dealers, of Shell Parrot, Zebra, and Undulated Parrakeet. Some authorities derive the name from the flight, which is undulating. The flight feathers of the wings are dark grey, edged with green, and have each a yellowish-green patch in the centre; the two middle tail feathers, which are much longer than the rest, are bright blue; the remaining feathers of the tail are yellow, with green tips, while the back and tail coverts are vividly green, as are also the breast and vent. The quill portion of the tail feathers is black; the beak is white, and the legs are grey, or, rather, light slate-colour; the chin is yellow, ornamented with four small round spots of bright blue, of which colour a small band extends down the side of the beak on each side, giving the bird the appearance of wearing a moustache .

The scalloped or undulated markings are continued all over the head in young birds, before their first moult; and, strange to say, in extreme age the plumage reverts to this youthful type; so that old and worn-out specimens may be mistaken by the unwary for nestlings.

Of late years, a breed of yellow Budgerigars has been produced; a pair of this colour, in which the characteristic undulations were very faint, were exhibited some years ago at the Alexandra Palace Bird Show, and were sold for £6 10s. A blue variety, it is stated, has been also seen more than once; and there is little doubt that, in a few years’ time, there will be as many kinds of Budgerigars as there are now of canaries.

The male Budgerigar may be readily distinguished from his mate by the blue shade of the cere surrounding the nostrils, which is buff or brown in the female, and forms a differentiating mark that can scarcely be overlooked even by the most inexperienced amateur. The story of unprincipled dealers making a practice of destroying the blue colour of the cere with caustic, and then palming the birds off on their customers for females, is unworthy of credit, and is, I believe, really devoid of foundation in fact; but to obviate the possibility of becoming the victim of a paltry fraud, the intending purchaser will do well to make choice of a respectable dealer, in a large way of business. Such a man has a reputation to sustain, and would not find it pay to have recourse to petty trickery. The customer will either get what he wants, or be plainly told that it is not just then in stock.

Habitation.— The Budgerigar, as this pretty little bird is called by the aborigines of its native land, is indigenous to South Australia, whence it retires northwards at the close of the breeding season, which usually commences in December, and ends in July or August; two, sometimes three, broods being produced during that time. These birds are eminently gregarious—as many pairs will live peaceably together as the size of the room or aviary in which they are kept will admit—the only precaution necessary being the supply of a sufficient quantity of nesting accommodation, without which there will be incessant quarrels for favourite sites, and small hopes of successful breeding.

It is better not to associate the Budgerigar with any other species, especially the Astrilds or tiny ornamental Finches, as these impudent little creatures are in the habit of filling all and sundry nest boxes, whether intended for their own use or that of their companions in captivity, with grass, feathers, and rubbish of every description, to the utter discomfiture of the poor Budgerigars.

Breeding.—  In their native wilds the Undulated Grass Parrakeets breed in the hollow branches (spouts) of the gum trees, making no nest beyond smoothing the cavity they have fixed upon for their nesting place. In the aviary they are not at all particular, and will avail themselves of any little box, rotten log of wood, hole in the wall, or cocoa-nut husk that their owner may place at their disposal, in which to lay their eggs and bring up their families.

As a nest for the Budgerigar I very much prefer a cocoa-nut husk, and I think most of my birds are of the same opinion; it should have a small hole at one end, and be supplied with a perch beside the hole, where the male can sit and sing, while his mate is engaged with her important duties inside. The husk should be hung up as high as possible to guard it from the mice, which sadly disturb the birds if they once gain admission into the aviary. If undisturbed, Budgerigars will return to the same husk time after time, cleaning it out carefully after the flight of each brood.

The Budgerigar lays from three to six white eggs, at varying intervals, and hatches them in fourteen, not twenty-one, days; the young ones do not gape, but the parents take the beaks of their offspring into their own, and the young ones feed themselves on the digested food which the old ones disgorge for their use. The nestlings leave the husk when fully fledged, and seldom return to it, but can take care of themselves after a few days, leaving their parents at liberty to set about rearing another brood. If boxes are used for nesting places, some sawdust or chips of rotten wood should be placed inside, or the eggs will be apt to roll about on the smooth surface and be spoilt, which cannot happen in the cocoa-nut husk, where the concave shape of the inside forms a natural repository for the eggs and young.

Aviary bred specimens commence to breed (though this is by no means invariably the case) earlier in the year than imported birds, which still adhere to the season they were accustomed to in their own country, notwithstanding the inclemency of the weather here at that time of year. A good deal, however, depends on the period of moult, which takes place earlier in some specimens than in others ; some birds, again, are so prolific that, when they have once begun to breed, they keep on all the year round, until the poor mother dies of exhaustion on her neat—a catastrophe the thoughtful breeder will be on his guard to prevent. Some young Budgerigars will pair and lay before they have moulted their nest feathers, but it is not desirable to permit them to do so, as the young, in that case, are feeble and small, and the youthful parents themselves are often irretrievably injured. If well fed, and carefully attended to, Budgerigars will live for a long time in captivity; but after four or five years they are not of much use for breeding purposes.

The following is an account of my first experience in breeding these birds, taken from The Bazaar of November 25, 1876:

“At the last Crystal Palace Bird Show I bought a pair of imported Budgerigars; the hen, however, soon died, and after vainly trying to get another, I obtained a pair bred in an aviary at Diss, which shortly afterwards went to nest in a cocoa-nut husk, where they brought out four young ones, which began to fly on the 2nd of March; the widower then disturbed the nesting arrangements of his relations, so that the next sitting only produced one young one, which left the nest on the 2nd of May. I then bought an aviary bred hen, which caught cold on the journey from Devonshire, and died in a few days. My Norfolk hen then laid for the third time, and hatched two young ones, which left the nest on the 26th June and 6th July respectively.

As the widower still seemed very jealous, though paying court to a hen Java sparrow, that treated his advances with scorn, I bought him a third wife, aviary bred, which went to nest at once and died, poor thing! with her third egg. Nothing discouraged, I purchased a fourth mate for my Crystal Palace male, an imported bird, and as she seemed strong and healthy, I hoped for success with her, and was not disappointed. Mrs. Norfolk brought out another young one on the 13th of August, and immediately laying again, did not hatch a single one; however, she cleared out her box once more, laid, and has just hatched four young birds, as yet unfledged. The imported hen was not long before she began her preparations for bringing up a family, and hatched five young ones, which left the nest in the following order: 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 5th, and 9th September. She soon began to lay again, this time producing the extraordinary number of nine eggs, from which, however, she only hatched five young birds, which flew as follows: 31st October, 1st, 4th, 5th, and 10th November. She is sitting for the third time on six eggs, so that I have had altogether from two pairs twenty-two young ones since last March, and have every prospect of more before the end of the year.”

Since then I have had varying success, some of my birds giving better results than those recorded above, and some not so good; but, taking one pair of adult birds with another, I may say that they average twelve young ones a year, which is, even at the present low price of Budgerigars, a decided financial success, as they cost very little to keep, being small eaters, and thriving on the simplest food. These birds could be very readily acclimatised in England if it were possible to secure them from the snares of the bird catchers, and the guns of cockney sportsmen, who can never see or hear of a strange bird being about but they are at once possessed by an invincible desire to compass its destruction, and, with a perseverance worthy of a better cause, are indefatigable in their exertions until their object has been attained, and the unfortunate visitant to our inhospitable shores has been either captured or slain.

A few years ago, a pair escaped from some cage or aviary, and established themselves in one of the London squares, where they found a suitable nesting place among the trees of the inclosure, and brought up five young ones, which, when fully fledged, were often seen in the company of their parents disputing with the sparrows for the oats that were scattered at a neighbouring cab stand; what was their ultimate fate is unknown to the present writer, but as Budgerigars live and do well all the year round in a garden aviary, there is no reason why they should not succeed in establishing themselves in our woods and gardens, if they could be protected for the first few seasons from the attacks of their human enemies—against all others they are very well able to guard themselves.