THE DUTIES OF A FANCIER. 63 



vigorous salutation of the beak and lovingly drives 

 her home. On the fringe of the group is a squeaker 

 just learning the art of foraging for himself; shyly 

 he pecks at a stray grain that rolls near him ; 

 scared at his own temerity he retreats hastily ; 

 emboldened by hunger he tries again and again 

 at that grey pea till it is safely landed. Some 

 fatherly old bird perhaps takes compassion on 

 him as he squeaks at the wayside begging for 

 food and fills his crop for him. Feeding by hand 

 is one of the pleasures of the fancy never to be 

 abandoned. 



After spending an hour and a half with the birds 

 my employment has sharpened my appetite, given 

 a relish for breakfast, and I go indoors a hungry 

 man. 



About eleven o'clock I feed them again. By 

 this time the setting hens are off the nests taking 

 their morning exercise, and keenly ready for 

 luncheon. I now put the bath in the flight. 

 Pigeons are extremely fond of a splash in the 

 pan. In their eagerness they sometimes crowd 

 into it en masse. None will give way for 

 others to bathe first ; they all act the disagree- 

 able, and remain a solid compact breathing mass 

 heaped uncomfortably together in the bath until 

 a quarrel breaks out all round, terminating in a 



