78 SIR WILLIAM FLOWER chap. 



treatise or contribution to natural history, which he was either 

 publishing himself, or which some friend was bringing out, and 

 which he was supervising or helping in. Among our regular and 

 much-appreciated expeditions were our visits with him to the 

 Zoological Gardens. We generally went on a Sunday afternoon, 

 often walking both there and back, and sometimes going on to 

 tea with some of his friends near, especially the Henry Pollocks, 

 or to the Huxleys, where there was generally a pleasant gathering 

 of friends concerned either in science or art. What interested 

 my father more particularly at the Gardens were some of the 

 inmates of the small mammal house, and the ant-eaters and sea- 

 lions. We were never tired of watching the latter, with their 

 clever old French keeper Lecompte. Each of us had of course our 

 special animals which we always wanted to see; and we never 

 thought a visit complete unless we were taken "behind the 

 scenes" of the bison and cattle sheds, where we could peep 

 into their stalls from the back. Nor did we ever consider that 

 we had done our duty there socially to our animal friends until 

 we had been lifted up over the elephant railings to feed them 

 with the "crunchy" biscuits which the keepers can always 

 provide in any number from their pockets. What my father 

 liked best, and would have done much to further were it possible, 

 was to see every animal as far as possible in its natural state. 

 He would always stand watching an elephant taking a bath, or 

 the little beavers on the rare occasions on which they came out 

 of their house by day and swam about. 



The monkey and parrot houses were not so often visited. 

 But the old reptile house, near the kangaroo sheds, was always a 

 favourite resort. My sister and I used to delight in having some 

 of the harmless snakes out, and in being allowed to handle them 

 and let them twine round our necks, often startling the other 

 visitors who happened to be near. My father was greatly amused 

 one day. While we enjoyed ourselves in this manner, an officious 

 but well-intentioned old gentleman remonstrated with him on 

 the danger we were running. It was explained to him that these 

 were harmless, non-poisonous snakes. " Excuse me, sir," was the 

 reply, '* but you can never trust those serpents. You never know 

 'when they might turn venomous ! " 



