trees. The rooms are panelled in carved cedar-wood, and there is
charming "grillage" iron-work in the fanlights and outside gates.
There is an old circular-walled garden with brick paths, a perfect
blaze of colour; and at the back of the house, which is clothed in
stephanotis and "Gloire de Dijon" roses, an avenue of flaming scarlet
poinsettias leads to the orchard: it is a delightful, restful,
old-world place, which, together with its inhabitants, somehow still
retains its eighteenth-century atmosphere.

The red and blue birds form one of the attractions of Bermuda. The
male red bird, the Cardinal Grosbeak, a remarkably sweet songster,
wears an entire suit of vivid carmine, and has a fine tufted crest of
the same colour, whilst his wife is dressed more soberly in dull grey
bordered with red, just like a Netley nursing sister. The blue birds
have dull red breasts like our robins, with turquoise-blue backs and
wings, glinting with the same metallic sheen on the blue that the
angel-fish display in the water. As with our kingfishers, one has the
sense of a brilliant flash of blue light shooting past one. The red
and blue birds are very accommodating, for they often sit on the same
tree, making startling splashes of colour against the sombre green of
the cedars. That the light blue may not have it all its own way, there
is the indigo bird as well, serving as a reminder of Oxford and
Harrow, and pretty little ground-doves, the smallest of the pigeon
family, as well as the "Chick-of-the-Village," a most engaging little
creature. Unfortunately some one was injudicious enough to import the
English house-sparrow: these detestable little birds, whose instincts
are purely mischievous and destructive, like all useless things, have
increased at an enormous rate, and are gradually driving the beautiful
native birds away. All these birds were wonderfully tame till the
hateful sparrows began molesting them. I am glad to say that a fine of