62 THE PIGEON-FANCIER. 



gularly grow fat, lazy, and dyspeptic. Worse 

 still, having no regular meal-times of their own, 

 they may neglect feeding their young. I do not 

 like machine-feeding. It takes the poetry out 

 of the thing. When the birds see me walking 

 towards, them up the garden they commence flut- 

 tering and flying about in a pleased expectant 

 manner. Soon as I enter the flight the old 

 silver hen flies on my shoulder, and gently pecks 

 me as much as to say : " Make haste, please, it's 

 dinner-time ; I am hungry, so are the babies at 

 home." I think the sight charmingly pretty to 

 see a mixed multitude of Pigeons of various 

 colourings grouping themselves at your feet 

 engaged on the pleasures of the table. An amus- 

 ing incident or two frequently occurs during 

 the feed that is worth watching. There is a 

 cock-bird mightily jealous of his spouse heavy 

 with egg. He won't eat himself nor allow her 

 to. The duties of married life demand her pre- 

 sence at home, so he hustles her about, follow- 

 ing her up through the crowd she snatching 

 at her peril here and there a grain of food. By 

 dodging in and out amongst the birds she slips 

 him. On missing her he plunges wildly about, 

 creating commotion, disturbing every one at table 

 until the lost is found, when he greets her with a 



