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from that chartered libertine, the East wind, many of the

tenderest and most reputedly delicate foreigners will live and

thrive. I should be the last to suggest the introduction of birds

which are certain to succumb to the amenities of our charming

climate, and which seem to be continually apologising like

Charles II. for their “ unconscionable time in dying.” I do not

believe in “ riding to a fall,” but no sportsman deserves the

name who will run no risks.


It must be borne in mind that birds are far tougher than

some people think, and, given good shelter and plenty to eat,

they will take little harm and, like Hamlet, will bear the slings

and arrows of outrageous fortune.


When I first began to keep birds in the open air all the

year round, men held up, not maybe holy—but certainly aston¬

ished, hands. They said that such things ought not so to be,

but when they had gazed a great while and saw no harm happen,

they, like the barbarous people of Melita, changed their minds,

and said that I was a god or something very like it.


In making an aviary, be natural. Wire there must be to

secure the inmates, but it should be as unobtrusive as possible.

Cover it over as soon as possible with trailing creepers and great

bunches of glory roses. Nature will do the work if you will

give her a free hand.


For supports choose old gnarled trunks with the bark on

and moss still adhering to them. No straight perches of joiners’

laths, but old lichen-covered branches of apple and plum

arranged as like Nature as possible.


As with a garden, so with an aviary : it is impossible to

give definite designs and absolute decrees, where often the

extent is unknown and the site and surroundings are different.

My suggestion would be to follow Nature as far as possible, and

to remember that “ ars est celare artem,” and we may always

rest assured of this that, where we humbly try to copy Nature

there will always be signs and tokens to guide us.


Of aviculture it is true as of everything else : “Whatsoever

thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.” Even in our

recreations we should aim at perfection, rather than remain on a

dead level or become a good all round duffer. We should take as

our motto the old words, “ Quod facio, valde facio.” Some men

I know have attained such stupendous heights of knowledge

that I feel before them like the insignificant worm ! They pro¬

duce in me that “feeling of dropping down deadness,” which



