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the seed-box became visible, a slight meal was par- 

 taken of, and then, fresh water having been put into 

 the long, metal box that hung on the wires, the grand 

 business of the toilette commenced — rustling of wings, 

 and spray dashing everywhere, even on to my break- 

 fast tray, comprised the initiatory stage. Then two 

 damp, but very happy birds, stood on opposite 

 perches, and began eagerly to investigate the inner- 

 most interstices of their beings. It appeared to me 

 that every feather had to have individual attention, 

 and the process was a long one. After this, fresh 

 seed having been given, and eagerly upset in all 

 directions, and the choice bits gobbled up, there was a 

 calm survey of my recumbent form, and the band 

 began to play. What long-drawn-out notes, what 

 quaint little chuckling laughter, what swayings to and 

 fro ! the more elaborate utterances being naturally on 

 the part of Mr. Bullfinch. I loved to lie and listen to 

 their voices and watch their little antics, and am 

 always of the opinion that there are few birds to equal 

 them. To toy with the sprays of groundsel always 

 given them at mid-day, to routtle their bodies in the 

 fresh sand spread on the bottom of the cage, and then 

 to warble soft cadences, passed the early hours of the 

 day, and in the afternoon came a siesta, not so deep 

 as the night- sleep, but doubtless enjoyable. 



Then, as the light faded and the shadows on the 

 lawn outside grew long and deep, and Robin was 

 singing his plaintive adieu to the day, came pre- 

 parations for bed, preparations by no means so 

 peaceful as I could have wished, and by no means 

 suggestive of that perfect domestic harmony one 

 would have fain looked for. The fact was one small 

 perch in a high-up corner was the favourite roosting 

 place, and Mrs. Bullfinch was full of artful dodges to 

 secure the nook ; dodges rudeh' set at nought by her 

 lord and master making a rush and turning hertopsy- 



