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She laid five and sat well ; but soon after my return in October

she was disturbed, and deserted the nest. Examination showed

that her eggs were all fertile, and ought to have hatched. The

birds then showed no signs of breeding again, and spent the winter

as before. The summer of 1894 was far less hot, and it was only in

the later summer months that the cage was carried out of doors.

They then at once showed signs of breeding, and actually

incubated while the cage was carried in and out; but no eggs

hatched, though several were fertile.


In 1895, I had their daily outdoor airing begun earlier,

and the result was that the hen laid her first egg in July. At

irregular intervals she laid seven, but one was thin-shelled, and

broke, and I had to regularly overhaul the nest—this she now

allows me to do with perfect composure—I took away three

clear eggs and left three apparently good. In due time one

was hatched, and, exactly a week after, another; by this time

the first-born had grown immensely and I fancy suffocated the

younger, which was soon found dead. The survivor, in its

earlier stages, was certainly a most hideous little creature. Its

head was about the size of the rest of its body, and that looked

like a lump of raw meat. For four weeks it showed no sign of

down, then all at once specks of green appeared, and the feathers

developed SO' fast that in another fortnight it was fledged and

scarcely distinguishable from the mother. All through the

time of incubation the cock diligently fed the hen, and at night

slept in the cocoanut with her; and both parents fed the baby.

Before it emerged from the cocoanut, I heard cracking, which I

discovered to be that of hemp which, apparently, the parents

had carried up whole. I used to throw in more, and the nestling

quickly ate it. A tiresome stage ensued, when the little creature

used to scramble down to the ground and could not climb up

again ; but this only lasted three or four days. Then the trio

lived happily together for about three weeks, and very pretty

they looked in a flowery verandah. An evil day arrived when

the mother wished to nest again, and the father continually

chased the poor baby round the tiny cage. I was obliged to

remove it to a separate one, and, as ill luck would have it, just

then some chilly autumn weather came on, and, stupidly, I did

not remove the cage to warmer quarters: the little thing grew

feeble and was heard to wheeze at night. I removed it to the

equable and warm temperature of an invalid’s room. It became

the tamest and most interesting of feathered creatures I ever

knew. It grew weaker, but always tried to twitter cheerfully,

and seemed to thank for being lifted up to its cocoanut when too



