e advent not
only of the phantom of death, but of many, if not, indeed, all other
spirits. Within my knowledge there have been cases when, before a death
in the house, ravens, jackdaws, canaries, magpies, and even parrots,
have shown unmistakable signs of uneasiness and distress. The raven has
croaked in a high-pitched, abnormal key; the jackdaw and canary have
become silent and dejected, from time to time shivering; the magpie even
has feigned death; the parrot has shrieked incessantly. Owls, too, are
sure predictors of death, and may be heard hooting in the most doleful
manner outside the house of anyone doomed to die shortly.

In an article entitled "Psychic Records," the editor of the _Occult
Review_ (in the August number, 1905) supplies the following anecdotes of
ghosts of birds furnished him by his correspondents.

"In the autumn of 1877 my husband was lying seriously ill with rheumatic
fever, and I had sat up several nights. At last the doctors insisted on
my going to bed; and very unwillingly I retired to a spare room. While
undressing I was surprised to see a very large white bird come from the
fireplace, make a hovering circle round me, and finally go to the top of
a large double chest of drawers. I was too tired to trouble about it,
and thought I would let it remain until morning. The next morning I said
to the housemaid:

"'There was a large bird in the spare room last night, which flew to the
top of the drawers. See that it is put out.'

"The nurse, who was present, said:

"'Oh, dear, ma'am, I am afraid that is an omen, and means the master
won't live,' and she was confirmed in her opinion by the maid saying she
had searched, and there was no trace of any bird.

"I was quite angry, as my husband was decidedly better, had slept
through the night, and we thought the crisis had passed. I went to his
bedside and found him quietly sleeping, but he never woke, and in about
an hour passed quietly away.

"I thought no more of the bird, fancying I must have been mistaken from
being overtired.

"Some months after my husband's death my youngest little one was born;
he lived for twelve months, and then had an attack of bronchitis. He
slept in a cot in my room, and I was undressing one night, when this
same large white bird came from his cot, floated round me, and
disappeared in the fireplace. At the time I did not for a moment think
of it as anything but a strange coincidence, and in no way connected it
with