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about them by this time to hold very different views. And now

I am old, and have my hands very full ; and to have such a

handful as a pair of baby Bee-eaters would, I thought, be the

proverbial last straw that would assuredly finish off my already

partially broken back. I have an unfortunate weakness for

getting hold of most troublesome and burdensome species, and

had been bitten so often that I was very shy of the invitation.

But I did want “just to see” the birds,—and, I argued that,

behind the enormous price the dealer would ask, I should be able

to beat a not too undignified retreat, and so, on the following

morning, went to meet my fate. They were in better condition

than I had expected to find them, but had been fed, as I had

suspected, solely on mealworms. To keep a bird for weeks or

months solely on mealworms is not impossible, however

detrimental to the bird’s health ; but no bird can last under such

conditions, and where could a substitute for the mealworms be

found ? Birds like these will never look at insectivorous food;

and I gave this, and the heavy price demanded, as reasons for

declining the birds, and turned to depart. “ Then what zvill you

give ?” asked my friend, and I responded—“ Well, I suppose I

cannot offer less than so much,” mentioning just half his price,

and expecting a prompt dismissal.—But, no, I was not to be let

go so easily. “ If I cannot find anybody else to buy them, I will

let you have them.” This was not a bit what I had intended;

and I went home slowly and sorrowfully ; and rating myself

soundly for my weakness and folly.


A few days later came the much-dreaded letter :—I could

have the birds at my price ; and, on the 20th September, 1901,

like a man crawling to the scaffold, I once more entered the

fatal door. One of the Bee-eaters was looking fairly well, the

other fairly unwell; and in their cage there was a dish of the

nicest-possible-looking moistened ants’ cocoons that bird-lover

ever beheld. Our friend, by the way, sells ants’ eggs, as well

as mealworms, and always has a good word for them. “ Have

you got any ants’ eggs ? they will do well if you feed them on

ants’ eggs and mealworms ! ” and he drew my attention to the

dish in the cage :—but, alas ! I knew full well that that dish so

artfully prepared had not been prepared for the Bee-eaters to

swallow — but for me! “You have them cheap,” shouted he

after me as I walked down the steps—“ CHEAP ! !! ” And from

his point of view they were—but from my point of view they

were dear at any price ; and, instead of bearing my Bee-eaters

home in triumph, I returned as downcast and depressed as I felt,



