100 PIGEONS. 



with the pretty pictures of doves flying into the bosoms of their mistresses with 

 large packets tied under their wings. These pictures have no foundation in 

 nature. Like the German philosopher's idea of a camel, they are evolved out of 

 the inner consciousness of the artists. A pigeon could not fly encumbered with a 

 letter ; and when a bird is employed for conveying a message, a narrow slip of 

 paper is written on, rolled round its leg, and secured by a thread. As the leg and 

 foot during flight are drawn up into the soft feathers, the paper so attached offers 

 no impediment to the speed of the bird. 



But to return to the pigeon match. The birds entered and trained for the 

 match are, on the day appointed, taken to some distant place, either previously fixed 

 on, or the direction of which may be decided by lot on the morning of the race. 

 The birds competing are then set free ; and if well trained and conversant with 

 the road, they return home with wondrous rapidity. Thus, in a match which 

 annually takes place from Southampton to London, the winning birds always per- 

 form the journey in less than an hour's time. The competing bird, on alighting at 

 the house of its owner, is instantly captured in one of the traps or in the " area," 

 to which I have before alluded. A fixed time is permitted each owner to convey 

 his bird to the rendezvous, usually the public-house where the " fly" has been 

 organized. This time of course varies with the distance. After securing the 

 " voyageur," the owner loses not an instant in convejung it to the goal. Not 

 unfrequently relays of one or two quick runners are arranged, and the bird is 

 passed from hand to hand with the greatest celerity. 



Well do I recollect my first race. The fly was from Gravesend — a favourite 

 spot in that pre-railway time, as being easy of access by steamers. There were ten 

 competitors. The birds had been sent down the river by the first boat in the 

 morning, in charge of three or four persons to see fair play. John was up in the 

 loft on the look-out to catch my bird (the best " grizzle skinnum " I had bred that 

 year) as soon as he pitched. The rendezvous was about a quarter of a mile off; 

 and he was to run with the bird half the distance, whilst I was waiting to convey 

 it the remainder. From the corner where I stood I could see the loft of another 

 competitor. As I was waiting, I anxiously scanned his flight of birds that were 

 being driven up by him with a long light pole as they tried to settle to feed ; for, 

 to get them to come into the area directly the racing bird had joined them on his 

 return, they had been kept without food all day. At last I saw his head disappear 

 in the "dormer;" his flight settled. I saw his blue dragon that had returned 

 from Gravesend. The birds all ran into the area for the handful of tares he had 

 thrown in ; the trap-door of the area closed. I knew he had caught his bird, and 

 that in ten seconds he would burst from the door of the house, and be first at the 

 Blue Lion. And where was my bird ? At that instant John turned the corner, 

 running as though dear life itself depended on his speed. My skinnum was in 

 his hand. Hurrah ! the prize was mine ; for, living farther from the rendezvous, 

 I was allowed a minute and a half more time than my dreaded competitor, whom 

 I had just seen catch his bird. Before John reached me, my rival rushed from his 



