176 Parrots ^ Parakeets 



dark red patch about the shoulders in the males, and 

 their brilliant azure blue faces. 



They breed readily in an aviary, and a baby 

 turquoisine reared from the nest becomes a most 

 charming pet. 



One that I once had, used to sit on my shoulder, 

 and in winter time would perch on the fender to 

 spread out his wings and tail before the fire, as he 

 would have done in the rays of the sun. 



He had been taken from the nest in a London 

 aviary, and brought up by hand, or rather by mouth, 

 for the only way to feed baby parakeets is to masticate 

 some biscuit — "Albert" is as good as any — and cram 

 your nestling with the naturally warmed and moist food. 



Parrots, like pigeons, disgorge their half-digested 

 food from their crops into the mouths of the young 

 birds. 



It is not altogether an operation to be performed in 

 public, but then I never can feed young birds in any 

 way with successful neatness when people are watch- 

 ing me. 



Left to myself, I am all right. 



Turquoisines are not much larger than the well- 

 known budgerigar, the little bright green parakeet 

 with the scalloped upper plumage, so often seen in 

 bird shops and with Italian women in the London 

 streets. 



After all, how true it is that familiarity breeds 

 contempt. 



If none of us had ever seen a budgerigar until 

 yesterday, we should go wild with enthusiastic ad- 



