s 9



I found out quite by accident. I caught the Song Sparrows and

put them in an outdoor aviary. Then I netted the Bulbuls.

When I took out the first one I have seldom received a more

hearty grasp of the beak than he gave me, and I said to myself

“ Now I can understand how that Bibfinch felt when you got

hold of her wing ! ” I promptly caged the pair of sinners, and

put them together into a fair sized aviary where they remained

all the summer.


I will try to describe their appearance. I think myself

that Black is a misnomer. Did you ever hear the story of the

two young ladies who were discussing the colour of the devil,

one maintaining that he was black and the othersoniethingelse ?

At length one of them closed the conversation, which was

getting a bit heated, with the crushing remark, “ I think you

will find that I am right, dear.” And when I have given my

description, I venture to think that readers of this Magazine

will think that the Black Bulbul is not so black as he is painted ( e ).


The head, nape, and back of the neck, the chin, throat

and breast are black; the breast beautifully laced with silvery

white like a Birchen bantam, the ears rich glossy brown, wings

blackish brown, shoulders laced with silvery white, vent rich

crimson, bill and legs black, iris brown.


I fully intended to breed Black Bulbuls next year, and

make somebody perfectly green with envy ; but alas for our good

intentions!


There is always something peculiarly soothing in village

news. This is a village. We all love to hear which man has

grown the biggest lettuce, or the most alluring cabbage ; which

children have let the family pig into their neighbour’s garden,

and with what results. It is the best possible news—always

supposing that the said devastated garden is not ours! In the

same way, aviculturists always like to hear of disasters—to other

people. W 7 hat follows, therefore, will be of a cheering nature to

many.


The atmosphere of Micklefield—summer and winter—is

simply that of a roofed-in railway station open at both ends. It

is not conducive to longevity in birds, though perhaps it may be



( e ). Here, in another sense, I quite agree with Mr. Farrar. Years ago I had a pair of

Black Bulbuls flying loose in the aviary, but they never did any mischief. Nevertheless, as

a race, and I have kept several species and still have four—six individuals. I have found

the Bulbuls exceptionally spiteful, and very much more so than the much maligned

Weavers, of which I have had many for long periods, and still have about a dozen. A

little Madagascar is the only spiteful one, some of the others being' right down jolly good

fellows.—R.P.



