the dishes, they would not feed. The shortening, and later the

lengthening, of the days puzzled them immensely, and the latter

was productive of comical scenes. In the early afternoon they

would be safe in bed; but darkness came not, and hunger

pinched them, and the food dishes were inviting; and after

much chattering they would cautiously sidle along downwards in

the direction of their dining tables, rushing back to bed after

partaking of a hurried snack.


After a while, rather a pretty state of affairs was developed,

a representation in avine life of Noel Patou’s beautiful picture

“Faith and Reason,” which will be remembered by our members

north of the Tweed. Whenever the Bee-eaters are in the

slightest difficulty, it is their custom to call out for Daddie ; and

eventually the hen became so satisfied that sooner or later I

would come and put her safely and comfortably to bed that she

ceased to be frightened at the approach of the gloaming: she

had faith in me ; but the male, trusting to his own reasoning,

would not feed so late, even if lifted down, but would rush

frantically off to bed.


During this present almost unprecedented foggy March,

the} 7 both seem inclined to leave everything to me. Having

learned wisdom from experience, they proceed to their dining¬

room at the latest possible moment, and then, after feeding,

sitting side by side, they commence whistling for me ; and there

they sit and whistle until I come and put them to bed In doing

this, I just take hold of them across the back with their heads

towards me, and place them on the long sloping bough which

terminates in the bedroom at the extreme upper inner corner of

the cage; and then they sidle along to bed. But this act, simple

as it may seem, has to be executed with discrimination.

Occasionally, after seeing them safe to bed, perhaps an hour or

so later, I would hear agonizing calls for help, and, on coming to

the room, would find the excited male craning over the side of

the bed, and whistling:


“ Oh where, oh where is my little wife gone,


Oh where, oh where is she-e-e-e ? ”


and down below, demurely and quietly squatting on the floor,

and patiently awaiting my arrival, would I find the poor little

woman. I would place her on her perch, and then the two, as

if drawn together by some irresistible magnetic power, sidling

along the perch, would rush sideways towards one another

until they came into contact, when they would cuddle together,



