2 54 Summer Studies of Birds and Books chap. 



Oxford he lived in a little yard opposite the college 

 gate, where we made him snug with plenty of straw 

 and fixed him up with a light chain. This chain 

 must have made a deep impression on his mind ; all 

 his attempts to avoid it came to nothing, and at last 

 it associated itself so firmly in his mind with rest and 

 food, that when we ceased to use it he never noticed 

 the change. Though perfectly free, he woke up 

 every morning firmly believing that he was still 

 chained. When I went to call him for a stroll after 

 breakfast, though burning with desire to come, he 

 would lie in his straw and look at me ruefully. 

 "What's the use of calling, when you see I can't 

 come ? " he plainly seemed to say ; and every morning 

 I had to make believe to unfasten him before he 

 would rush barking into the street. His delight at 

 this imaginary release never once failed him, and 

 he signalised it by startling some listless errand-boy 

 with a sudden outbreak of his war-cry, or by tearing 

 to pieces the nerves of some old lady who might be 

 passing at the moment. 



One day I succeeded in turning this delusion of 

 his to good account. I took him into the Parks, and 

 seeing that a cricket match was going on, I turned in 

 that direction ; but was presently confronted with a 

 notice that no dogs were allowed on the ground. A 

 handy row of hurdles suggested to me that I might 

 tie Billy up to them, but I had no string — only my 



