A HAPPY PAST. 2 I I 



the reeds, growing in the wilds of distant, little 

 known, South-East Africa. They must have been 

 literally in millions, and flushed as we reached a 

 distance of twenty yards from them, when their 

 evolutions on the wing afterwards, were identical 

 with their confreres at home. The sight made me 

 home-sick ; I could not take my eyes off it, while 

 memories that were intensely pleasant crowded 

 my brain. Several times I shut my eyes to the 

 surroundings, to let hearing alone be my monitor, 

 and the result was identical, for as each flock 

 swept down in our rear to reoccupy its temporarily 

 forsaken resting-place, the tall reeds fairly re- 

 sounded with the garrulous voices of these incessant 

 chatterers of the feathered creation. I never see a 

 starling now that does not recall that scene as 

 vividly, as those I was then gazing at did the early 

 autumnal evenings in Cumberland. In truth, it was 

 a revelation of the past, a happy past, when the 

 future was decked in visions of the most gorgeous 

 beauty, and prospective life seemed to be one pro- 

 longed holiday of happiness and delight. It is sad 

 indeed that there ever should be an awakening to 

 such dreams. 



A few days afterwards I procured some speci- 

 mens of these starlings, and found that, although 

 they were not identical with the home species in 

 contour and colour, they very nearly approached 

 them. They were well known by Andersson, the 



p 2 



