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been fond of. The wasp grubs they played with, but did not

seem to eat. Gentles they were almost indifferent to. I tried to

get some aphides, but it was too late in the year to be able to

keep up a supply.


On October ist, while I was in the aviary, one of the old

birds suddenly emerged from the nest with a young one dangling

from its beak. The poor little thing was quite dead, and looked

older than those in the first nest who had shared the same fate.

Its wing quills were very decided, and its body was covered with

grey down, but it was thin and did not seem to be well nourished.

It was very disappointing, and I was quite perplexed as to what

to provide in the way of extra diet to ensure the young being fed ;

but apparently there were no more in the nest, for the old birds

seemed to quite lose their interest in it, and one day I saw one of

them with a huge feather in its beak, as if preparing to build

again. So certain was I that the nest was forsaken, that I

arranged with a carpenter to come and make some alterations in

the aviary. As it would have meant endless trouble to have

caught up all the birds, he had to work amongst them. Un¬

fortunately the work was in that part of the aviary that was near

to the Lavenders’ nest. I noticed when the man went outside

that they flew round about, but I never suspected that any

young ones were left alive, and put it down to the naturally

inquisitive nature of the little birds. While the work was going

on, I was suddenly startled, while standing in the aviary, to see

what appeared to be one of my Uavenders suddenly grown

much smaller, shuffling rapidly across the floor, (it could hardly

be dignified by the name of flying). The small object fled

behind a hot water pipe, and tried to squeeze through a tiny

space, where the pipe passes through into the next aviary. It

nearly put an end to itself by getting its head fast, and I had a

terribly anxious moment trying to release it. The little thing

chirped loudly, and, when I at last got it free, it dashed off into

a far corner with great speed and disappeared from view. I

found it a few minutes later sitting in a corner looking quite

composed, and as if nothing had happened. Whether the

joiner’s hammering had brought it out of the nest prematurely,

I do not know, but I should hardly think so, as, calculating that

the bird was hatched when I returned home, it must have been

about a month old. The baby Uavender was the sweetest little

ball of grey feathers, much the colour of the old birds, but

rather darker. The tail was dark red, edged with black, and

the wax skin round the beak very distinct. Its eyes were very

bright, and black as sloes. There were no white spots on the flanks



