BRAKE NIGHTINGALE. 333 



" Perhaps, Reader, you will allow me to present you with 

 some observations on the feeding of birds in confinement, and 

 applicable to the Nightingale as well as to others. If you are 

 not an observer of nature, read books, and in some of them 

 perhaps you will find what I am about to relate to you ; yet, 

 I would rather advise you to go to the woods and fields, and 

 see for yourself. When there, seated or standing, you will soon 

 discover if the food of a particular species is simple or complex, 

 whether it is composed of seeds only or of flesh in the form of 

 worms, larvse, snails, &c. and berries or other ripe fruit. Then 

 as to the Nightingale, you will soon perceive that although it 

 is fond of fruits, it never sucks the eggs of birds, and that to 

 feed it on hard-boiled yolk of eggs is quite wrong, for such food 

 induces constipation, soon renders the bird dull in spirits, and 

 ultimately extinguishes its musical powers. No, if you can- 

 not procure insects and fresh fruits for it during winter, do so 

 in the summer, and save them by threading them with a needle, 

 and drying them in the sunshine ; and, when the cold weather 

 has returned dip some of them daily for a few minutes in tepid 

 water, when they will swell, recover a part of their colours, 

 and will be sought for with avidity by your nightingale. Worms 

 cannot well be saved in this manner •, but grasshoppers, crickets, 

 and a variety of coleopterous insects, may. Instead of worms, 

 furnish your pet with something resembling them. Cut slen- 

 der slices of raw flesh, beef or mutton, roll them between your 

 fingers, throw them scantily into the cage, and judge for your- 

 self of the pleasure with which your winged captive devours 

 these welcome bits. Give it the best of dried figs too, or raisins 

 or prunes ; sand its prison well and often, have a good-sized 

 bathing-basin half-filled with cold water ; talk to your bird as 

 you would to a friend in captivity, and, depend upon it, the 

 captive wnll repay you amply, by its sweet and melodious song, 

 for all your not unpleasing cares." 



To this original history by Mr Audubon, may be added a few 

 remarks. — The Nightingale, which in summer is spread over the 

 greater part of the continent, extending its migrations to Swe- 

 den and the temjierate parts of Russia, arrives in the south 

 of England about the middle of April, or a few days later 



