128 JOURNAL. 
18th. — One of my young friends from the Doris, some of whom 
have been with me daily, has brought me some excellent partridges of 
his own shooting. They are somewhat larger than the partridges in 
England, but I think quite as good, when properly dressed, or rather 
plucked ; but the cooks here have a habit of scalding the feathers 
off, which hurts the flavour of the bird. There are several kinds of 
birds here good to eat, but neither quail nor pheasant. They have 
plenty of enemies: from the condor, through every variety of the 
eagle, vulture, hawk, and owl, down to the ugly, dull, green parrot 
of Chile, which never looks tolerably well, except on the wing, and 
then the under part, of purple and yellow, is handsome. The face 
is peculiarly ugly : his parrot’s beak being set in so close as to be to 
other parrots what the pug dog is toa greyhound. They are great foes 
to the little singing birds, whose notes as well as plumage resemble 
those of the linnet, and which abound in this neighbourhood. We 
have also a kind of blackbird with a soft, sweet, but very low note; 
a saucy thing that repeats two notes only, not unlike the mockbird, 
and that never moves out of the way ; swallows and humming-birds 
are plenty ; and the boys tell me they have seen marvellous storks 
and cranes in the marshes, which I shall take occasion to visit after 
the rains. I know not if we are to believe that the aboriginal Chi- 
lenos possessed the domestic fowl. At present they are abundant 
and excellent, as well as ducks, both native and foreign, and geese. 
Pigeons are not very common; but they thrive well, and are made 
pets of: — in short, this delightful climate seems favourable to the 
production of all that is necessary for the use and sustenance of man. 
Monday, May 20th.—This is but a sad day. The Doris sailed early, 
and I feel again alone in the world ; in her are gone the only relation, 
the only acquaintance I have in this wide country. In parting between 
friends, those who go have always less to feel than those who re- 
main. The former have the exertion of moving, the charms of 
novelty, or at least variety of situation, and the advantage that new 
objects do not awaken associations connected with the subjects of 
our regret. Whereas the stationary person sees in each object a 
