BIRDS AT THEIR BEST 5 



once more the slaty-brown little bird with a chestnut- 

 red breast. 



It is unlikely that I shall ever again see the 

 furze wren in this aspect, with a curious splendour 

 wrought by the sunlight in the dark but semi- 

 translucent delicate feathers of his mantle ; but its 

 image is in the mind, and, with a thousand others 

 equally beautiful, remains to me a permanent 

 possession. 



As I went in to see the famous Booth Collection, 

 a thought of the bird I have just described came 

 into my mind ; and glancing round the big long 

 room with shelves crowded with stuffed birds, like 

 the crowded shelves of a shop, to see where the Dart- 

 ford warblers were, I went straight to the case and 

 saw a group of them fastened to a furze-bush, the 

 specimens twisted by the stuffer into a variety of 

 attitudes — ancient, dusty, dead little birds, painful 

 to look at — a libel on nature and an insult to a man's 

 intelligence. 



It was a relief to go from this case to the others, 

 which were not of the same degree of badness, but 

 all, like the furze wrens, were in their natural sur- 

 roundings — the pebbles, bit of turf, painted leaves, 

 and what not, and, finally, a view of the wide world 

 beyond, the green earth and the blue sky, all painted 



