HEREDITARY BIRD-LOVE 147 



silver pheasants, cockatoos, parrots, &c. Before 

 him his mother was devoted to them, had a room 

 given up to them, and kept nightingales in song 

 through the winter, and an overpowering noise they 

 made. They had list on their perches, were 

 wrapped up at night, and were fed w r ith meal- 

 worms, chopped egg, &c. This love of birds is a 

 passion which has, I think, descended to me and 

 to some others of our family. Uncle John could 

 imitate the nightingale's note so exactly that I 

 have seen, in the twilight of evening and our 

 shrubbery, a nightingale fly down to him, and 

 almost strike him in the face as it passed. We 

 had birds among our ancestors, no doubt. I used 

 to be told when a child that I was like a robin. 



That young robin has come back ; not quite so 

 tame, but I think it is the same. It flashed past 

 me the other day as I stood at the window, and 

 took refuge in the darkest corner of the room, an 

 angry parent after it. It comes for its breakfast 

 as regularly as a certain torn-tit. The ways of the 

 two are comical in the extreme, or rather the tit 

 is comical. The robin's ways are graceful, and 

 pretty, and lively, and insinuating. I never had 

 so bewitching a one before. 



June 30, 1887. 



I am very birdy still. Robins have been 

 hopping in and out of the room all day, carrying 



L 2 



