168 London Birds. 



specially adapted, not merely for London as viewed from with- 

 out, but for London par excellence, that is to say, for the 

 smoky, noisy, almost treeless City ; with these for pioneers, 

 nature invades the Stock Exchange, the Court of Aldermen, the 

 Bank, and all the railway termini, as if to say, ' ' Shut me out 

 if you can." 



Of what race or descent, of what origin or history, are the 

 Guildhall pigeons, I know not ; but if any naturalist inquires 

 after City birds they claim first mention, and might well have 

 a place in the civic emblazonment of arms. The first birds it 

 was ever my lot to keep, when a very small boy, were a pair 

 of pigeons that were trapped for me- by a young friend, who 

 lived within a stone's throw of the Guildhall. They were sent in 

 a basket to Stepney, and there I made for them a large cage 

 by placing laths in front of an empty box, and the box was 

 hung up in the garden close to the kitchen door. In due time 

 a pair of young pigeons came forth, and the Penny Pigeon 

 Booh, which I used to pore over in hope of learning the 

 whole art and mystery of the pigeon fancy, told me that as 

 soon as they had young I might allow them to fly ; they would 

 never leave the spot where they had young to care for. So, on 

 the first day of the chicks coming out of their eggs I drew 

 away one of the laths, and away went both the birds. They 

 circled round to reconnoitre, as is the custom of pigeons, and 

 then they took a direct flight westward, and were never seen 

 in Stepney more. My friend averred that he saw them come 

 home, for the young thief (he is now an eminent citizen) 

 spent all his time watching the Guildhall pigeons, and to con- 

 firm his statement, he offered to entrap that identical pair 

 again any day if I would have them. But I never did have 

 them, and never wished for them. The little ones died in my 

 lap, wrapped up in flannel ; and that was the first and last of 

 my experiences in pigeons. It is very rarely any one has the 

 audacity to trap or harm a City pigeon. They are as sacred as 

 storks in Holland, and the birds of good omen that built in 

 the temples and residences of classic Greece. They are the 

 pets of policemen and railway porters, and woe to any one 

 found engaged in devices for their destruction. Those met 

 with elsewhere in the City, appear to be colonies originally 

 sent out from Guildhall. There is a large colony at the ter- 

 minus of the South Eastern Eailway at London Bridge, and 

 greatly do the porters and the drivers of public vehicles rejoice 

 in them, and kill time when waiting for incoming trains by 

 robbing the horses' nosebags to feed the pigeons. At the 

 Royal Exchange there is a small colony, but it is fast increasing. 

 Their breeding-places are principally the capitals and cornices, 

 but they are not particular. Any place that affords a little 



