A SOLITARY MAGPIE 319 



magpie seems to have adopted something also of 

 the hermit's mind and manner. He is less excitable, 

 less upon the move. You do not see him hopping in 

 long bounds over the down. You do not hear his 

 cheerful "currack" or "margot." He has no one 

 to call to, no one to "do for" him. He has, 

 apparently, no relations, no friends. He must have 

 taken a vow of silence as well as of celibacy. Like 

 the " Bachelor," in the poem of the grand old 

 Dorset poet, William Barnes, you may see him 



il Slinken on ! blinken on ! thinken on ! 



Gloomy and glum, 

 Nothen but dullness to come." 



The populous solitude of Hyde Park is the last 

 place which you would expect a hermit to select for 

 his hermitage. Yet so it is. A solitary magpie is 

 generally to be seen there or in the adjoining 

 Kensington Gardens. He is a disreputable-looking 

 old fellow enough, probably, owing to the London 

 smoke. A careful observer, Mr Frank Ridley, tells 

 me that he has watched him for many years and has 

 never seen him consort with another magpie, though 

 he occasionally keeps company with an equally 

 disreputable - looking, solitary, carrion crow which 

 haunts the park. 



