BOOK OF DOVECOTES 



of approach, taking a turn to the left andanother 

 to the right, we are soon at Gilmerton House, 

 or rather at the steading, screened from the 

 roadbya smallplantation. Inthe middle of this 

 is a fine circular dovecote of brick, which the 

 grieve is far from unwilling to exhibit on re- 

 quest. 



More modern than the one just visited, it is 

 in some ways more pleasing; for, far from being 

 deserted and in semi-ruin, it is well populated 

 and inexcellent repair. Asthedooropenstothe 

 turning of the key, pigeons swarm out through 

 the small cupola that tops the dome-shaped 

 roof; through the three curious little windows 

 immediately above the upper of two string- 

 courses; even through the door itself, so urgent 

 seems their haste. 



The building, fifty feet in circumference, con- 

 tains about elevenhundred nests, withapotence 

 in good working order. The storms and frosts 

 of winter have worked havoc here; the coat of 

 plaster recently applied has parted from the 

 walls in places and hangs loose. But there is 

 here no danger of the dovecote's most-feared 

 foes — indifference and neglect. We notice 

 262 



