Mr. E. R. Crisp,



332



These and hosts of other such questions ask for answers

before it is too late, and how better can they be answered than by

such a union of past and present as that I suggest.


A few of the 1836 visitors’ stopping places still are recog¬

nisable, but to most change has come, no doubt, nearly always for

the better, for he laments the large number of temporary wooden

buildings which disfigured the Gardens in his time and which were

a necessity owing to some rule or regulation forbidding the raising

of any building above a certain height. I seem to recognise little

beyond the Terrace, the Tunnel, and that “ apartment where lived

. the most amiable of Quasimodos, the Chimpanzee.” The

last, with its smell compounded of ape, ant-eater, and hot-water

pipes, is now a thing of the past, or more accurately, part of the

present palatial offices, but the two first are still with us, and one on

its way to have a twin brother. Heaven preserve us from any danger

of the other being similarly favoured. Our writer, it is true, was a

great admirer of the Terrace, and regrets that a proposal by the

architect to continue it “ along the southern (!) line ” was rejected

(Gratias Deo. EH.) on account of the health of the animals. How

he would have loved the Mappin Terraces !



MY EXPERIENCE WITH BRITISH BIRDS.


By E. R. Crisp.


A lot of people say I have influence over birds. I think it is

the other way about; birds have influence over me and have

captured my affections, and since taking up the hobby have added a

lot of pleasure to me, both indoors and out. Indoors, by their lovely

song during the dull winter months, and their many different ways

of showing their acknowledgment for kindness shown in captivity.


Out. of doors, what is more beautiful when the hawthorn is in

bloom and all the birds in full song, than to sit in the meadows and

listen to all their varied notes in Nature’s fulness?


The caroling of the Lark, the shrill and varied song of the

Thrush, the flute-like notes of the Blackbird, and many others, all

seem to blend together in lovely harmony and make one marvel at



