You certainly were. Closely related to the Carroting Warbler (dendroica dauca), this bird (which is, by the by, blessed with magnificent plumage) hails from the same climes as the various kinds of parrots which it, well, for want of a better description, warbles. The Parroting Warbler (dendroica ara) is now extremely rare in the wild, as hunters shot them in the rainforests for keeping them awake with what Dr. Livingstone described as "...a cacophonous din, as though four-and-twenty fishwives with laryngitis were being murdered in their beds...[the noise] being too much for the men, they fired their guns until the trees grew silent, and we slept well that night, dining even better the next day." Its function is extremely beneficial to the parrot, with whom it shares an almost symbiotic relationship - its terrifying calls scare away predators, leaving the parrot's flight path unendangered (unless there are guns about), and the parrot shares with its helper the food which the parrot can locate, but the warbler cannot, on account of the shape of its beak. The Carroting Warbler, incidentally, seems to have evolved earlier in the grand scheme of things and is a great nuisance around vegetable patches, not being essentially good for anything much. Due to its large, completely black appearance and horrifying sound, it was known by the superstitious as the Spectral Bird, thought to foreshadow death, and even features briefly in the famous poem about Flannan Isle. Recordings of the Carroting Warbler still exist and are thought to be linked with the supposed noise of the banshee. Then, when the research into the Parroting Warbler developed, it was realised that the birds were merely wailing at vegetables, and the superstition shifted to large black dogs. Live Parroting and Carroting Warblers now only exist in specialist areas - the Parrotting Warbler is trained in zoos now only to guard captive parrots and macaws. Carroting Warblers have been found a cheap and more attractive alternative to scarecrows. Thus, the Parroting Warbler advertised at your local charity shop must have been one of the last remaining stuffed Blue Warblers from the era of Queen Victoria, shot and mounted by Terje Glasswerk of Norway and shipped to this country on his death in 1909. As there are only five of them remaining, you missed out on a collector's treat. Incidentally, I was at an antiques fair the other day and was inspecting something the dealer keenly called a Pritchatt Foley Latisserie when a ruffian snatched it from my hands and made away with it. The bounder was never caught, but can anyone tell me why it should be so desirable?