26o 



friend, accompanied by her two little daughters carry- 

 ing a mysterious looking basket, informed me that 

 they were just off for a month's holiday, and asked me 

 to relieve their anxieties by taking charge of a young 

 bird, which on the 5tli of the preceding month they 

 had found fully feathered but with an injured wing 

 (shot?) in their garden, which lay under the shadow 

 of the woodland region of Villiers Path, the scene of 

 the historic opening skirmish of the Civil War. He 

 had grown up in the bosom of this truly animal- 

 loving family, his wing power was restored, and at the 

 time I mention, he had complete liberty both in and 

 out of the house, flying where he listed, but ever re- 

 garding the dining room as his headquarters. 



Naturally such a bird as this could not be left to 

 the tender mercies of servants — who notoriously feed 

 or don't feed, who shut in or shut out, who in fact 

 apparently do anything or do nothing where animals 

 are concerned without the slightest intent either one 

 way or another — and so hot foot on the word the little 

 ladies opened their basket and released their precious 

 possession. With great gravity he hopped on to the 

 edge of his temporary prison, said a corvine word or 

 two of which the purport was not to me revealed, and 

 then allowed himself to be passed to and fro between 

 his young mistresses to receive from one and the other 

 the most extravagant display of kisses and cuddlings 

 I have ever seen bestowed on anything beyond a 

 pampered tabby. And not only did he merely allow 

 this; in a manner which I have only seen equalled by 

 one of my Senegal parrots he returned their caresses. 



Lest trouble might ensue on his transference to 

 fresh quarters I straightway clipped the primaries of 



