193 



BULLFINCFIEvS. 



vSiR,— In reply to a question asked by a member, and 

 repeated verbally l)y you, in reference to his Bullfinch not 

 being able to moult, I may say that my Bullfinch was very ill 

 from the same cause, and I tried what ripe fruit would do ; but 

 he would scarcely touch it, and it apparently did not supply 

 what he needed. I then tried the soft food I give to my Indian 

 Shama and vSong-Thrush, the principal ingredients of which 

 are hard-boiled egg, Spratt's crissel scalded, and ants' eggs. 

 This food acted like magic on the bird, I could see an improve- 

 ment the very first day. I find what he likes best is the white 

 of the egg, and, as far as I can judge, he sucks the goodness 

 out of the ants' eggs and then drops them. 



His favourite seed is linseed ; he picks this out in 

 preference to hemp. But I refrain from advising what seeds 

 to give, as I think the best way is to find out what your bird 

 likes most. But remember the soft food for all finches during 

 moulting time. 



Arthur Jones. 



A POPULAR AUTHOR ON VOLUNTARY DKATH. 



Sir,— I see that the harsh, cold light of science has been 

 somewhat cruelly turned on to that beautiiul and poetical 

 thought which is enshrined in the commonplace statement — 

 that birds can die when they have a mind to, and in spite of 

 their being healthy in every organ. 



As some sort of defence of the originator of this idea, I 

 venture to quote the following extract from an article by 

 F. Harvey Major, dealing with his experiences on the West 

 Coast, and published in Chambers' s Jonr7ial, June 20th, 1896. 



" When the Forcados arrived I went on board, and after 

 " reading my letter asked Tom Diaper, the captain, for the 

 " birds. 



" 'Very sorry, old man,' he replied. ' but the}' are gone the 

 " way of all flesh and feathers. Dead — every one.' 



*' Seeing .some scores in cages under the bridge, I asked to 

 " whom they belonged. ' Oh,' said Tom, ' those are my birds.' 



" ' Well, yours seem health}^ enough ; it's a singular thing 

 " that mine should all die,' I remarked. 



*' 'Ah, quite so,' replied Tom, and then added impressively, 

 "'but mine never do die — they know me too well — they 

 •' daren't.'' " 



