had called once or twice and it sounded about ten feet away, wheras B was working toward me and climbed up the fence "under my nose". I was feeling very superior by this time and a little sorry for B in his fallibility when I was surprised to find myself com- pletely deceived.and B right. Brownie looked him over, apparently thought everything all right and flew to the top of the old oak where he sang beautifully. While he was thus engaged I went outside the fence and worked up through the thorns of the roses and kangaroo thorn until I got within reach of the bird, thinking I might induce him to go back over the fence and expecting a frightful disturbance if compelled to use force. The growth was so thick and thorny that I could not offer him food, so I worked my hand up under him gently, palm downward as he was up so high, touched his feet, and he walked on to the back of my hand, lay down on it comfortably, raking his bill back and forth on it curiously. He seemed prepared to spend the rest of the day there, and, on account of the thorns and twigs, I could not withdraw my hand without scraping him off, consequently I pushed him carefully over the top of the fence without alarming him, then returned to the inside (having difficulty finding him) and gave him food with the squirt gun. He then allowed me to pick him out of the tangle and carry him to the glade without trying to escape, even letting me push food down his gullet en route. He is a much reformed bird. Except for about an hour during the middle of the day, Brownie has kept the place ringing with song. Stopping only about 6 P.M., at which time I helped him give the youngsters their last meal of the day as they were being seen to their night roosts. During the afternoon his song was constantly varied, but it differed materially from his forenoon efforts. There were much fewer recognisable phrases and it was filled with flute like tones