Incomparable Budgerigars - All about Them, Including Instructions for Keeping, Breeding and Teaching Them to Talk. Percy Gladstone Frudd

Incomparable Budgerigars - All about Them, Including Instructions for Keeping, Breeding and Teaching Them to Talk - Percy Gladstone Frudd


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even stood in the pot, scattering the seed all over the place with their feet. The lectures she gave them about dirty feet in the food!—such things jarred upon her nerves and hurt her finer feelings.

      Finding that her protests were either ignored or that the invariable reply was, “Oh yeah!” Gertie adopted a sterner attitude and gave these other young ladies a jolly good hiding, which sent them scurrying into the house to sulk. Later, after they had somewhat regained their dignity, we watched them preen their lovely feathers and powder their noses. Oh, yes! budgies do powder their noses, and it is quite a simple process—they just rub them up and down upon the whitewashed walls.

      Gertie was very meticulous in all that she did; rising with the dawn she sipped at the water-pot, bathed her face, replenished her crop and then took her exercise. She flew sedately round the flight, pausing now and then to pick up some piece of wood which her sisters had chewed from the woodwork of the flight, or perches. These splinters she carefully dropped into the water-pot, knowing that Albert, the aviary attendant, would empty it. In this way Gertie got rid of much of the litter her companions made.

      These Amazons, the masculine type of females, are by no means dirty or slothful. Usually, they are just the opposite, which probably accounts for the hectic time they give to those around them.

      Now, in the next flight was a young gentleman budgie who was rather timorous. He was beautifully marked, of a very excellent colour, and of the correct type. In fact, he possessed all the good qualities of the show bird excepting that he failed in one essential—size. He was a wee bit small.

      Albert thought him a bit of a dandy, and so named him Bertie, probably thinking of the popular song, ‘I’m Burlington Bertie from Bow’.

      It was a pity that Bertie was small, otherwise he would have most likely become a very famous gentleman in budgie circles. His brothers used to twit him; they soon picked up the name bestowed upon him and developed a nasty habit of singing, ‘Here comes Bertie’ to the rhyme of a famous radio signature tune. This annoyed him, especially in the sight and hearing of the young ladies in the next pen.

      Bertie, like his brothers, had seen prim and proper Gertie; all had tried to win her affections but he. The continual leg-pulling had created in him an inferiority complex, and while Gertie refused to join in what she termed vulgar flirtations, Bertie was too timid and self-conscious to make any advances to the maid of his desire.

      Gertie had noticed him, however, and like Penelope, she had made her choice. At last spring came, and with it the irresistible call of love. One day she was caught by Albert, giving a sly wink to Bertie.

      This incident was at once reported to Mr. W., and a little discussion took place upon the merits or demerits of letting such a courtship continue. In the end it was decided to allow the match to proceed. Bertie’s general good qualities but lack of size might be well balanced by Gertie’s similar good points and greater physical development; so they were both moved to a breeding compartment containing the usual ‘villa’ as a nesting place.

      Thus started the strangest courtship it has been my lot to witness.

      Bertie, out of sight of his leg-pulling companions, plucked up courage to make the first advance; he rushed towards Gertie to rub noses. Biff! a well-planted foot caught him in the pants and he landed on the floor of the flight, where, dazed, he remained for a while gazing at his beloved, who sat serenely upon the perch as though nothing had happened.

      “Not so fast, young man; we will begin as I intend we shall continue. You may be my husband, but you must learn to keep your place. Now you may tickle my left ear!” said Gertie.

      Bertie was overjoyed at this favour; he flew quickly to her side to do her bidding. When he thought that the left side had been ‘tickled’ enough, he moved over to the right side. Biff! again he found himself on the floor. He was amazed.

      “Now, look here, young man! let’s get this straight. When I say the left ear—I mean the left ear. Don’t be so impetuous. I’ll do all the thinking in this establishment, and you will do just as you are told.” Gertie was most indignant. “Go, and fill your crop with the choicest seeds, and perhaps I’ll let you feed me.”

      Any ‘cave-man’ in Bertie died at that moment, but he loved his G.; also he had a sneaking regard for that strong foot which she used so effectively. So without comment he did as he was bid, under the watchful eye of his bigger and better half.

      Thus did Gertie establish her ascendancy over Bertie, and he became her willing slave. Then came the day when Gertie thought it time to investigate the inside of her nest. One morning, she disappeared inside the little villa and Bertie saw no more of her until late afternoon when he was informed that she had laid her first egg. Bertie was very excited.

      That evening, Bertie thought it a good plan to keep his beloved company in the nest. Gertie was now sitting tight. He was half-way through the entrance when he found himself projected backwards, and again he took a count. A head quickly followed him through the aperture.

      “Young man! haven’t you heard that twin beds are the fashion to-day? Your place is on the little perch outside; there you will stay. At meal-times you will knock upon the door, but don’t you dare to enter!”

      Poor Bertie, he was very curious to know what was going on inside the nest, but he never got another peep. At feeding times he would tap, tap, tap! upon the wood by the hole with his strong beak. Out popped Gertie’s head; when she was satisfied that her husband was keeping up to his household duties, then, would she allow him to feed her.

      One morning, about eighteen days later, Bertie heard a faint chirp inside the little villa—his firstborn son and heir had hatched. He could control himself no longer; he shot to that hole like a bullet in flight. Gertie had anticipated his coming; she met his headlong rush and bowled him over. This time she did not scold, but followed him down and proceeded to give him a sound drubbing.

      “Will you never learn not to bring outside germs into my nursery? Have you never heard of hygienics?”

      Bertie did so want to see his babies, but the first he did see of them was about five weeks later when the first chick left the nest. Bertie thought that here was a real pal to play with, and he proceeded to have a jolly game with his son. Gertie was soon on them like a wild cat, and gave them both a hiding.

      “You’ll do just as mother tells you, my son! It will save a deal of trouble if you do.”

      Little Bertram soon found her words true; it did save a lot of trouble. Also he found that strict obedience meant that he could sit upon the perch much more comfortably—there was no ache under his tail.

      So did Gertie the Amazon set her house in order. She set a very strict code for each of them. It was a most peculiar marriage, yet I’m sure that Bertie would not have had it otherwise; he had a silent and secret admiration for his loved one.

      Later, when they were all moved to the large flights for exercise, other bigger fellows tried to ‘get off’ with Gertie, but Bertie only smiled as they flew shrieking to the hut to nurse their wounds.

      “No one can tame this shrew of mine, but me!” he thought, but he was far too wise to say so. He had learnt that discretion was better than valour.

      At eventide, when Gertie allowed her husband to caress her, Bertie found that sufficient recompense for the trying times of the day, and he was content.

      BILLY THE BOY SCOUT

      CHAPTER VI

      BILLY THE BOY SCOUT

       His Daily Good Deed

      HERE is a story of a young yellow split white budgie. He was not a very desirable bird, for he was not pretty; he was, in fact, a mongrel. His colour precluded him from being useful as an exhibition bird, but any dog lover who may read this story will know how faithful these mongrels, the throw-outs, can be. They make


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