198 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



down came the very birds, and there for half an hour 

 we had them right before us while we drank tea and 

 ate strawberries, and watched them working at the 

 cones — our quaint pretty little parrots of the north, 

 so diversely coloured — one red like a red cardinal, 

 one or two yellow, others green or mixed. 



On the following day I was at Wells ; it was Sunday, 

 and in the morning, happening to see the bell-ringers 

 hurrying into St. Cuthbert's Church, I was reminded 

 of an old wish of mine to be in a belfry during the 

 bell-ringing. This wish and intention was formed some 

 years ago on reading an article in the Saturday Review 

 by Walter Herries Pollock, describing his sensations 

 in a belfry. Here then was my opportunity — a better 

 could not have been found if I had sought for it. St. 

 Cuthbert's is one of the greatest of the great Wells 

 church towers, with a peal of eight big bells. I 

 had often listened to them with pleasure from a 

 respectable distance, and now I felt a slight twinge 

 of apprehension at the prospect of a close acquaint- 

 ance. The bell-ringers were amused at my request: 

 nobody ever wanted to be among the bells when they 

 were being rung, they assured me; however, they 

 did not object, and so to the belfry I climbed, and 

 waited, a little nervously, as some musical enthusiast 

 might wait to hear a symphony from the days of 

 the giants, composed (when insane) by a giant 

 Tschaikovsky, to be performed on "instruments of 

 unknown form" and gigantic size. I was not dis- 

 appointed; the effect was too awful for words and 

 was less musical than I had thought it would be. 



