JUNE JOYS 153 



" Where are its wings and tail, then ? " 



" I pulled 'em out, sir." 



" When did you catch it ? " 



" A week ago." 



" Where ? " 



" At Horns." 



This was the lovely bird of Horns ; its plumage 

 dirty, its feet clogged, its wings and tail robbed 

 of their long plumes ; a poor, piteous, tortured 

 thing. I was about to leave England ; I could not 

 keep the bird, and knew none who would under- 

 take that which I might otherwise have done. So 

 I refused to buy it, and the fellow took it away in 

 the dirty cage to die in misery. 



Happier was the fate of a kestrel purchased 

 from Cheltenham a very large bird, but so thin 

 that her breast-bone felt like a piece of cardboard. 

 She had been caught on the hills near that town, 

 and had no doubt soared over them year by year. 

 One wing was still sticky with birdlime ; but 

 diligent washing partly removed this disfigure- 

 ment. There was also another kestrel, caught in 

 Surrey, which was on the way to a London bird- 

 shop, where already there was one hung " high in 



