Mr. Reginald Phillipps,



i 86



of his time on a perch about four feet from the biidrootu

window, while Tom sits on a perch nearly six feet from the

ground at the extreme end of the near aviary, a projecting

corner of the house preventing the two rivals from seeing one

another. Thus, hour after hour, and day after day, they sing at

one another. The singing is sweet ; but I doubt if the thoughts

they express would look very sweet if committed to paper. One

day in January, I was standing in the garden close to Tom,

watching his chestnut vest and white extended throat as he

sang, sang, and sang again. My presence ;possibly encouraged

him, or he wanted to show off, or perhaps to let me know how

brave he was, and I fear he must have hurled at Tim some very

naughty words, provoking him beyond endurance, for the latter

suddenly wheeled round the corner and dashing straight at Tom

knocked him headlong to the ground, hastily retiring with a very

respectable pinch of his breast feathers in his bill. Tom, with

the greatest composure, and without betraying the slightest sign

of anger or annoyance, philosophically picked himself up, slowly

and with a dignified air hopped step by step up to his accustomed

perch, and then uttered words which may be more readily

imagined than described. Towards the end of February I could

not help noticing that there were several white patches on Tom’s

breast, where presumably Tim had been sampling the feathers. *


Nevertheless, being afraid of one another, there is no

actual fighting, but there is always danger in leaving such birds

together ; and often, when the weather looks particularly

threatening and tempestuous, I lay a sudden hand on Tim and

shut him up until the morning, an act which both birds seem

highly to appreciate. Those who can do so should keep such

birds apart, even separating the sexes during the non-nesting

period. I was told that last summer a male Orange-headed

Ground-Thrush at the Zoological Gardens, on being loosed into

the same aviary with a female, killed her before they could be

separated.



* The garden bird lias ceased to see the fun of this little game, and now spends

much of his time just outside the birdroom window, singing away and daring Tipi to

come out. The latter slinks about in the dimmest and most distant recesses of the

room, not venturing so much as to wag his tongue so long as Tom is on the watch.

—R. P., March 19.



