98 FEATHERED FRIENDS. 



saying that I was much obliged and would have great 

 pleasure in accepting his kind offer, or something to 

 that effect, and in due course the bird and cage arrived. 

 The latter was not much, but of course no one should 

 look a gift horse in the mouth, and I did not, but the 

 bird was very charming. It was perfectly tame and 

 familiar and whistled very prettily; but there was one 

 great drawback; it wanted, or rather its cage wanted, 

 a great deal, a very great deal of looking after, and 

 after a while I felt bound to turn "Jack" out into the 

 garden-aviary, where he seemed to enjoy himself and 

 soon got quite strong on the wing, whereas when he 

 first came to me he would not fly a yard, probably 

 from disuse of his wings, or rather from never having 

 been allowed to exercise them. 



When I used to feed him of a morning, I always 

 called him "Jack, Jack", and from whatever corner he 

 was hidden he would instantly emerge with a shrill 

 cry and, after a time, a repetition of his own name, 

 and subsequently of several short sentences with which 

 I was accustomed to greet him. Bread and milk, on 

 which I had been advised to feed him, did not seem 

 to agree with the bird at all, passing through him 

 practically undigested, and, at last, giving rise to diar- 

 rhoea: raw meat he ate greedily, but it used to make 

 the evacuations smell very badly, and insects I found 

 to be the best diet, for on a course of mealworms and 

 gentles he got so strong and so bright and shining as 



