A Clergyman' s Experience. 
6 
St. John — if it be not a beautiful myth— petted and toyed with his tame dove, down to the 
present, this gentle “fancy” has furnished relaxation, health, relief of mind — all, in fact, that we 
mean by “recreation” — more than anything else except the kindred passion for flowers, to those 
who have borne the deepest and most sacred interests of man upon their hearts. How many 
clergymen thus keep pigeons we should be afraid to say, and it is indeed difficult to ascertain, 
since most of them, naturally enough, do not exhibit ; but there arc many of them : and thus docs 
a kindly “ Wiltshire rector,” long known to us and many of our readers, describe his first beginning 
as a pigeon-fancier : — 
“ I was a very little boy, when, having in my possession a much-studied juvenile volume, 
containing a history of fancy pigeons, a digest of old Girton’s work, but with illustrations far 
superior, my imagination was often taxed as to what the real birds could be like — for in the 
pictures some seemed to have hoods, others very long beaks, others, again, very short ones; some 
had blown-out breasts, and others very extensive tails. Well, I wondered and wondered how the 
living birds looked, when to my surprise and delight my wonder was fully satisfied. It happened 
thus : I was born in a country town ; therefore, living in a street, neighbours’ gardens were only 
separated by walls, and the roofs of buildings in one garden were visible from another. One 
morning my eye was attracted to an outbuilding of our next neighbour, for its roof was covered 
with pigeons resembling the pictures in my book. While in London he had been smitten with 
pigeon-fancying ; he was also a great poultry man, specially attached to Black Polish. Thus 
smitten, he had brought' back several hampers full of good pigeons, for he was regardless of 
expense when his fancy was concerned, and as a stay-at-home man he delighted in pets. Here, 
then, were almost all the then-known varieties of fancy pigeons. As yet Germany had not sent us 
her ‘ toys.’ On this morning our neighbour had let his birds out for the first time, and there they 
were bowing, cooing, strutting, pouting, or simply preening and sunning themselves on the long 
thatched roof of his stables, the south side of which he had covered for the birds’ convenience with 
hurdles, whose broad and wide-apart bars made them good perches. What a sight this was to a 
bircl-loving boy ! Here were, feathered and alive, true fancy pigeons. Soon I learned the names 
oi each variety by comparing them with my book. Many visitors came to our neighbour to see 
his wonderful pigeons, for such had hitherto been unknown in that far-away fen town. The result 
was, his example was speedily followed, and a perfect pigeon furore set in. Coach-loads of birds 
were brought from London by other tradesmen, or the young ones were bought as soon as ready, 
and in different parts of the town were fitted up many pigeon-lofts. Old Girton was bought and 
studied, and several persons became adepts in the fancy ; pairing, exchanging, selling their birds, 
not satisfied until they obtained still better stock. 
“ This was in the year 1837, and during that and the five following years, while the furore 
generally lasted, I never knew so many valuable birds kept in one small town. That sight on that 
morning made me in heart a pigeon-fancier. How I longed to possess some ; but how was it to be 
managed ? To keep pigeons flying with a neighbour’s stock 100 strong, and only ten yards 
distant, was clearly impossible ; but when a boy sets his heart upon anything difficulties soon 
vanish. We happened to have an unused building, tolerably large and high, having no ceiling, 
and, best of all, with two sides of lattice-work, so it was light and airy. But how get the consent 
of the one boys call, I fear irreverently, ‘Governor?’ I dreaded a talk, for I might be cut short by 
one severe reply ; so I wrote a note, an early effort of penmanship ; I sealed it — by-the-way, in so 
doing I scorched the paper — and then I laid my note with a trembling hand on my father’s desk 
in the surgery (for he was a doctor), where he would be sure to see and read it just after he 
had dined ; for I knew even then that ‘ a hungry man was an angry man,’ but the same man is 
