2 A BIRD COLLECTORS MEDLEY. 
finds time for one, or the at most two, short shooting expeditions, which he 
plans out with other kindred spirits. The birds are sought for, shot, and stuffed, 
and afterwards treasured as mementos of a healthful and enjoyable holiday, 
mementos on which the eye can be feasted during the remainder of the 
working year. 
I have never yet come across the collector who was not delighted to show 
his birds to anyone interested in the subject, and much pleasure is thus 
afforded to others, who may have had no opportunity of visiting the localities 
where they are found. Lastly, he can end by presenting them to some museum. 
We all sneered once at museums and stuffed birds in general ; we contrasted 
the live bird with the resurrected ‘‘specimen,” and we still point the finger 
of scorn at the old-fashioned taxidermist, who, confining his ambition to 
“setting up” a skin, does indeed produce some weird, uncanny represen- 
tations of nature. But things are changing fast nowadays, and it is ridiculous 
to maintain that an examination of the cases at South Kensington, or the 
Booth Museum at Brighton, can give aught but pleasure and instruction to 
the visitor. 
Should a local museum be wanting, one of those which are now being 
started in our leading schools may perhaps appeal to the “collector” as a 
suitable haven for his trophies; but, be this as it may, I propose to give some 
account of the way in which an ordinary collection is got together, and of the 
pleasures and disappointments which await the collector himself. The mania 
often seizes a boy while still at school. He rigs up a “ catty,” and patrols the 
fields in search of a victim to commence upon. A fortunate shot lays low a 
Starling, and solemn preparations are made for stuffing it. Five minutes after 
the start the bird is a hopeless wreck, but your Briton knows not when he’s 
beat, and perseveres with grim obstinacy to the bitter end. There emerges 
at length that well-known abortion—a stuffed skin, with air-holes to ventilate 
the tow, wings pendant, and a few feathers distributed in uneven bunches 
before and behind. It is decided that “it is not worth while putting in the 
eyes,” and some weeks afterwards the specimen is definitely discarded. 
All things, however, must have a beginning, and, as bird-stuffing is more 
a matter of care and perseverance than innate skill, the would-be Waterton 
has probably obtained a fair amount of proficiency by the time that he proceeds 
to the ’Varsity, or any similar abode. Here he substitutes a walking-stick gun 
for a catapult, and finds that the smaller canes are most serviceable weapons 
for dealing with birds of the Finch type, as they do so little damage to the skin. 
In certain emergencies the collector will condescend to spread the wily 
noose, but here he has serious difficulties to contend with. It is easy enough 
