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tional sharpness, which probably would not last long, would be

of immense assistance to a brancher in holding on to its perch.


On November 26th, the survivor commenced pecking at

food, and on the 27th was flying about a good deal, with quite a

respectable tail. By December 8th, it was quite independent,

the mother having ceased to feed, and keeping quite out of the

way. It could now hardly be distinguished from her, except by

its more open tail; but a closer examination of the face would

have betrayed the difference.


The young bird spent much of its time in a eucalyptus

tree in the bay window, quite in the front; and I, with great

dulness of perception, failed to perceive the danger. I found

afterwards that, during the cold and frosty weather, there was a

great draught in this place ; and, as might and should have been

foreseen, the poor little thing was soon laid up with inflammation,

and died on the 17th. I grieved much over its death. It’s life

had been so short. What good had it done in the world, and

why had it lived at all! But truly it had not lived its little life

in vain, for it taught me a lesson of sympathy—sympathy with

the many who mourned for their beloved ones that black winter

of 1899—1900.


The following are my notes of this second bird taken

shortly after death. Total length a little under 4 inches, the tail

being inch ; upper mandible and tip of lower, dark brown ;

rest of lower mandible, dull yellow ; all upper parts dark brown

tinged with yellowish • two central feathers of tail darker than

the others. Under parts lighter brown, inclined almost to

whitish down centre of abdomen. Feet and legs, dark flesh

colour 1 hind and central front toes very long, the other two

being very short. First primary nearly, perhaps quite, as long

as the third, the second being the longest, and without outer

web ; along the next four or five primaries, the outer web ex¬

tended for about two-thirds from the base. There were not any

signs of yellow or black on face or chest after death, but pre¬

viously there had seemed to be lines of lighter where the yellow

would be, and a trace of the dark cloud of the male on the

chest.


It was on the 8th December that I first heard with cer¬

tainty the “ song ” of this species. In the quiet of the evening,

b} r artificial light, male No. 1 repeated his little song without

intermission for quite a considerable time. Afterwards, by day

and by night, sometimes for hours at a time, his quaint little

Tippling carol could easily be distinguished amidst the musical



