76



Mrs. Katharine Cureey.



poor little things wanted a cocoanut-shell to sleep in. As soon as I

hung one high up in the cage all six hurried to it and crowded in,

chattering, doubtless with joy, but the song never varied. Out and

in they popped, standing on the perches and boughs to chatter their

diddle-diddle-dees,” till the daylight waned, when they all made

for the opening together, pushing and jostling and squeaking. They

soon settled to sleep, after a few drowsy “ diddle, diddles,” ending

up with a long drawn-out 11 dee-e-e.”


After a time I tapped softly on tire back of the cocoanut to

see what would happen. Out popped the little heads, one above the

other, to see who was there, looking uncommonly like a crowd of

little old gentlemen with night caps on. Then they all withdrew

inside again, only an occasional “ Peet ” revealing the discomfort of

one of them, probably trodden on or squeezed by the others.


A pair of St. Helena Waxbills lived in their cage with them

for a time and, until the arrival of the cocoanut, were tolerated by

the Rice Birds. The Waxbills roosted on a bough like respectable

birds and gazed with surprise at the pyramid below them. When

the cocoanut appeared on the scene the Waxbills were not allowed

to go near it. If one of them ventured to roost on it, or even near

it, out would come a Rice Bird, and uttering angry little shrieks,

chase it away, and return grumbling to the cocoanut. Two of the

Rice Birds laid eggs in the same nesting box, in which they made a

tidy little soft nest, but as the whole party sat on them together the

eggs did not long remain whole. They then chattered on tip-toe

more than ever, one in particular never ceasing the whole day long :

indeed he was such a nuisance that I wondered the others put up

with his garrulity.


I found a great objection to keeping Rice Birds was the

strong and most unpleasant odour about their cage, in spite of its

being kept scrupulously clean and the moss perpetually renewed.

Their ceaseless repetition too of their one refrain from morning till

night was wearisome in the extreme, and I was not sorry when a

friend with a collection of little finches took them. Their conceit

and self-assertion was most ludicrous, and though they were

perfectly tame—I do not suppose it ever would have struck them to

be otherwise — I could never have made friends with them.



