Shanghai, Feb. 27—Do you want to know the story of the seven Black Robins in a chimney? No? Very well then, I will tell it. The story is typical of many problems brought te me for elucidation and I feel it is my duty to relate it in order to prove that the life of e country diarist is not a bed of roses. Here is the story. A respectable, sober, Canadian friend of mine told me that during the past few days Black Birds had been coming down a chimney in his house; five into one room, two into another (via the same chimney) making seven in all: when pressed for details—or better stil' a live specimen—my friend was somewhat vague because the birds had been immediately released by his kindly wife who did not want them te damage themselves: said they were jet black and about the size of Robins: "of course!" you say, "that fs easy; they were sparrows blackened with soot!" But it is not as easy as that: you.forget that on the American continent thay have Bigger and Better Robins; their Robin is no relation of our little English Redbreast....he is a Thrush with a red breast and is just about the size of our local Blackbird. "ah! that's it" you say with a sigh of relief "these were Blackbirds." But what in the name of creation were seven Blackbirds doing in a chimney at this time of year? I give it up. I remember that we had a municipal treasurer who was always pulling rabbits out of hats; but when the municipal bonnet was opened the other day there were no more rabbits in it: and even if there had been, this would be, ne proof that you could expect to find seven Black Robins in a chimney. So now it is with the idea that if his Canadian friend looks up his chimney again and finds any more Black Robins ko had better make a call upon his medical adviser, that this diarist is closing up his shameful entry for the day.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.