THE RAVEN. 109 



of surprise at her new surroundings. She had had her 

 supper, but what about her breakfast in the morning? 



Well, I have already described elsewhere how that was 

 furnished and I must not repeat myself, especially as 

 the reminiscence is a painful one. 



I had intended allowing the bird the run of the garden, 

 and to let her sleep where she was (in the wash-house, 

 so I opened the door, and out she stalked, for one of 

 her wings had been clipped, and I knew that she 

 could not fly away. Recollecting then how fond she 

 was of a ladder, I brought out a pair of wooden steps 

 and placed them leaning against the side of the house, 

 and these she immediately mounted, croaking and flap- 

 ping her wings vigorously the while. 



I left her then and went indoors, but on coming out 

 again in an hour or so, to see how she was getting on, 

 I found that "Grippa", as I had re-named the Raven, 

 had in the interval done more damage to the shrubs and 

 flowers than a couple of rabbits or even a goat could 

 possibly have done in the same time, and I saw that 

 it would be impossible to allow the bird her liberty, 

 which was unfortunate, as I had counted upon that to 

 wean her from her deplorable habit of self-mutilation. 



There was no help for it, the Raven must be shut 

 up in an old summer-house that had been converted 

 into an aviary and had a small run attached to it: it 

 was then tenanted by a few White Fantail Pigeons, 

 which, of course, I transferred to other quarters, for 



