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as ominous that the “kissing” should have been so one-sided, for

the Regent never returned the salute. Slowly but surely Bob is

becoming civilized, and is losing his native habits and customs.

Bight months and more of close confinement, with nothing to

do but to eat, drink, and grow fat, is enough to spoil any bird.

It is almost a calamity that he should be thus confined, for he is

a very active bird, and requires much more exercise than he can

now enjoy.


His voice is hardly correctly described as a whistle.

Every now and then he comes out with a soft and gentle song,

like some of the notes of the Redbreast. Sometimes he descends

the scale to a series of guttural croaks. Altogether his voice

approaches nearest to the music of the violin. Perhaps Bob

would tell us, if he were asked, that the guttural notes are those

of his native violoncello. The name of Fiddling-bird, or The

Fiddler, would suit him well. Whilst in the house, his varied

music gave us great pleasure ; but now he is in the garden it is

almost lost in the din and babel of a mixed aviary. He has

several little notes, such as the chuckle of approval, the plaintive

twittering and dog-like whine of anxiety or want, the prolonged

high pitched call-note, and the like, some of them very expres¬

sive. The gurgling notes seem to be the war or hunting notes,

as at any rate they are occasionally used when he is in hot pur¬

suit, like a terrier giving tongue when it starts a rabbit.


Bob is not delicate for a foreign bird, but he does not like

cold, and rarely takes a bath except in fairly warm weather.

Occasionally he will take an uneasy sun bath; nevertheless,

civilized as he has now become, he seems irresistibly drawn to

his highest lookout perch or to the darkest corner of his den.


Since he has been shut up I have experienced some diffi¬

culty in feeding him satisfactorily. I cannot reconcile myself to

the thought of giving him birds, and insectivorous food he will

hardly look at. When I purchased him, he had absolutely

nothing in his cage but raw meat. This is too heavy as a regular

diet ; and I now feed him principally on scraped cooked meat

and a general mixture, with occasional treats of carefully scraped

raw meat, and such insects as I can obtain. Occasionally he will

take a garden worm ; mealworms I find may only be given with

caution. Just now and then he will take a bit of fruit as medi¬

cine. For a while he seemed to be going wrong; so lately I

have taken to driving the other birds into the bird-room, and

then letting him out for a fly. This has quite restored him ;

and it has also re-awakened in him his thirst for blood, which I



