572 APPENDIX. 



the little orphan squats on his side and falls asleep. My sisters 

 send their kindest remembrance. Believe me, my dear friend, ever 

 sincerely and affectionately yours, CHARLES WATERTON. 



To the Same. 



WALTON HALL, April 26, 1854. 



My dear -Friend, Our long and dreary winter is now apparently over, 

 although the frosty nights show us that the grim tyrant still hovers 

 on our confines. More trees and plants have been killed during the 

 late season than ever were known since the remarkable year of 1814. 

 J have lost all my artichokes, the frost having penetrated quite to 

 their roots and destroyed every germ of vegetation in them. Not- 

 withstanding all this, the swallows have arrived many days earlier 

 than usual. I had sanoUmartins here on the $d of March, house- 

 swallows the day following, whilst the wild fowl in general disap- 

 peared for the high northern regions many days before their ac- 

 customed time of departure. All our summer birds of passage are 

 here in full song, notwithstanding the frosty nights. We are sadly 

 off for rain. The ground is parched up by a- prevalent easterly wind, 

 which does not seem inclined to change. Should rain not fall soon, 

 our pastures will have no nutriment in them for old May-day, which, 

 you know, now falls on the i2th of next month. My large male 

 Cochin-China fowl dropped down dead in a fit of apoplexy the 

 other day. It was so large that I always said it would gain the prize 

 if I sent it to the show. I have preserved it for the inspection of the 

 curious. I have also preserved two toucans which had been sent to 

 me without any letter to say whence they had come. I suspect that 

 they had died in the Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park. I never 

 thought to live to see the day in which I should have two dead 

 toucans lying before me on the table. Nothing short of steam could 

 have produced so novel a sight. We are all in excellent health, and 

 all join in kindest remembrance to you ; and I may add, not without 

 hopes, although they are certainly much diminished by the contents 

 of your last letter, of yet having the gratification of shaking you by 

 the hand at Walton Hall. Believe me, my dear friend, ever most 

 sincerely and truly yours, CHARLES WATERTON. 



