Colour disappeared once more, and hope and expectation ran

high over again ; and again she left her lord and master “ alone

in his glory.”


How long and weary the weeks of waiting seemed. At

last one day, I fancied I heard the well-known noise that young

Parrakeets make, which once heard is never forgotten. It was

days before I heard that sound again. You may listen for hours

and you will hear nothing. The old birds signal the youngsters

to shut up if anyone is about. If you hear them it is only by

accident.


One day I saw the cock slinking out of the nest in a most

apologetic way. I wondered what he had been in for, as when

the hen wants feeding, she always conies oft to be fed. I hoped

that he had gone to feed his family. Later on I found out that

he had. The moment I suspected youngsters I gave green meat

ad libitum. During early days the young are fed on little else

and egg food.


How can you tell when there are young ones about ? Some

people say, “ Go and look in the nest.” Wisdom says, “Do

nothing of the sort. Watch for signs.”


When you see a cock Many-Colour, or for that matter any

other Parrakeet, eating all day long against time, or as if there

was no hereafter, you may be certain of one of two things. He is

going to die, or he has a family to provide for. As my cock

looked the picture of health, I took the latter view.


This is not intuitive wisdom, but gathered slowly and

painfully among the thorns of experience. My duties now

blossomed forth like Aaron’s rod, and I became in turn feeder,

watcher, and general supervisor.


For weeks I literally lived on thorns. Was all my labour

for nought! Should I just take one little peep, like Bluebeard’s

wife? Curiosity said “Yes.” Prudence whispered “No.”

Prudence won the day.


One morning in June, as I entered the aviary at 8 a.m.

there was a rustling demonstration of surprise, such as you may

have observed in a country congregation, when they hear an

allusion to their week-day sins from the pulpit. Mr. and Mrs.

Many-Colour were running about and calling to each other in

the most frantic and excited state of mind, and I was not long in

perceiving that the cause of all this parental joy and fussiness

was the advent of a beautiful Many-Colour. I never saw a

youngster that could fly so swiftly and well from the first.


Many young Parrakeets go back to sleep in the nest for



