236 IN BIRD LAND. 



sill, and then squat down upon them to press them 

 into the desired concave with her red bosom ; but 

 it was all to no purpose, for she had no mortar with 

 which to rear the walls of a cottage. 



Leaving the robin to her fruitless labors, I turned 

 to a collection of weaver-birds of various species 

 and divers markings. There was one, especially, 

 with a black head and neck and yellow body, that 

 attracted notice. He was rather handsome ; his 

 song, however, was a perfect squall, especially the 

 closing notes. These birds did not sing all the 

 time, but intermittently, one of them beginning with 

 a few ringing notes as a prelude, and then the others 

 joining, all screaming louder and louder as the 

 chorus went on, until they ended in a supreme 

 racket. Then there were a few moments of quiet, 

 followed by the united chorus as before, making 

 such a tumult that one voice could scarcely be dis- 

 tinguished from another. A dainty little sparrow, 

 unnamed, seemed to fill in the intervals with his chirp- 

 ings, forming a sort of semi-musical interlude. 



The enclosure which contained the yellow-headed 

 blackbird was divided into a number of apartments. 

 Here were parrots of various species, among them a 

 number of white-throated Amazons. You have 

 doubtless heard a dozen or more parrots screaming 

 simultaneously. On my visit these birds created 

 a terrible hubbub. They cried and laughed and 

 sighed and groaned and shrieked until my ears were 

 almost deafened. But in the midst of it all, when 

 there was a slight lull, could be heard the silvery 



