The Public Gardens and Parks of Paris. 8i 



is an old acquaintance, and a bird alighting on his arm gets a morsel 

 of bread to begin with ; others foUow. He has previously put a few 

 crumbs of bread into his mouth, of which the birds are well aware, 

 and, arching their exquisitely graceful necks, put their bills between 

 his lips and take out a bit "turn about." Perhaps one alights on 

 his head, and he may accommodate two or three on his right arm. 

 There are others perched on the railings near at hand, and they 

 come in for their turn by-and-by. A dense ring of people stand a 

 few yards off, looking on, especially if it be a fine day, but they 

 must not frighten the birds, and this persistent feeder looks daggers 

 at a small boy who allows an audible yell of delight to escape. 

 Presently the sparrows gather round the feeder's feet, and pick up 

 any crumbs that may fall while he is transferring the bread frora 

 his pocket to his mouth. The sparrows, sagacious creatures, do not 

 as a rule light upon the arm, and never even think of putting their 

 heads in the mouth of the man, but flutter gently so as to poise 

 themselves in one spot about fifteen inches or so from the hand of 

 the feeder. He throws up bits among them, and they invariably 

 catch them with slight deviation from their fluttering position, or at 

 most with a httle curl. It is very pretty to see them thus fed, and 

 to see the exquisitely graceful heads and necks of the wood pigeons 

 as they move them to extract the crumb is charming. In one 

 instance we saw a sparrow or two alight on a man's hand, and 

 pluckily root out crumbs that he held rather firmly between his 

 finger and thumb. He was an ancient and persevering personage, 

 evidently of the Jewish persuasion ; and however much I may 

 regret to admit it, as a faithful chronicler I must state that not one 

 sparrow approached within ten inches of the hand of a Gentile. 

 Similar instances of this interesting bird-feeding would be a pleasant 

 pastime in other places than the Tuileries gardens. 



The Champs Elysees, &c. 



The Place de la Concorde is not a garden but a noble open 

 square — a worthy centre to the magnificent roads and streets that 



