200 BIRDS AND MAN 



cry of the widgeon, brighter than the voice of 

 any shore bird, or any warbler, thrush or wren, 

 or the sound of any wind instrument. 



It is probable that those who have never 

 known the Magellanic goose in a state of nature 

 are best able to appreciate its fine quaUties in its 

 present semi-domestic state in England. At all 

 events the enthusiasm with which a Londoner 

 spoke of this bird in my presence some time ago 

 came to me rather as a surprise. It was at the 

 studio in St. John's Wood of our greatest animal 

 painter, one Sunday evening, and the talk was 

 partly about birds, when an elderly gentleman 

 said that he was pleased to meet some one who 

 would be able to tell him the name of a wonder- 

 ful bird he had lately seen in St. James's Park. 

 His description was vague ; he could not say 

 what its colour was, nor what sort of beak it 

 had, nor whether its feet were webbed or not ; 

 but it was a large tall bird, and there were two 

 of them. It was the way this bird had com- 

 ported itself towards him that had so taken 

 him. As he went through the park at the side 

 of the enclosure, he caught sight of the pair 

 some distance away on the grass, and the birds, 



