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Miss Rosie Aederson,



the water’s edge. Further, the ducks had a fine taste in the

young shoots of Campanulas to add to their other crimes.


But to return to the Cranes. The die was cast at last, and

we arranged with Mr. Thorpe, of Hull, to come over and pinion

the birds, bringing a man to help him. We arranged that the

operation should be done in the aviary they were in, in the lower

garden, and that afterwards they should be carried up to the

aviary I first told you of in the top garden near the house. The

two gardens are divided by an old yew hedge with a wicket gate

at each end, and as this top part is protected all round on every

side there is no fear of the birds getting away, and there being

plenty of room they can enjoy their liberty whilst we have the

pleasure of watching them from the house.


The pinioning was over very quickly. I was not present

but I saw the birds directly after it was done. Mr. Thorpe

carried them one at a time up the garden under his arm and

deposited them in the aviary that was now to be their home.

The birds seemed very quiet but otherwise not much the worse

for the operation. The hen’s wing was the worse to do. In some

way, perhaps owing to an old injury, the joint was very thick and

stiff and difficult to cut through. I must tell you a little incident

about the pinioning that may amuse you, though the laugh is

against myself. I am a coward at the sight of blood, it always

makes me feel faint, though if I am given something to do, not

just to look on at such a time, I feel it much less. I had not

actually seen the Cranes pinioned for, apart from not caring to, I

was very busy seeing about their new home being made comfort¬

able. I had just about finished when Mr. Thorpe appeared,

coming up the garden, carrying the cock Crane in his arms. As

he drew nearer I saw to my horror a large patch of scarlet at the

side of his coat. I thought ‘how that bird has bled,’ and I began

to wish I was somewhere else, but I crushed the feelingdowu and

went on with my work ; and, do you know, when Mr. Thorpe

got nearer my large patch of gore turned out to be his scarlet

handerchief hanging half out of his side coat pocket. So much

for too vivid an imagination !


For the next few days we kept the Cranes very quiet. I

have canvas curtains run with rings over a thin metal rod, that



