54 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY. 
skins; the fact being that under ordinary ci stances they could not be kept from drying 
perfectly ; and they dry in exactly the shape they are set, if not accidentally pressed upon. At 
sea, however, or during unusually protracted wet weather, they of course dry slowly, and may 
require some attention to prevent mildew or souring, especially in the cases of very large, 
thick-skinned, or greasy specimens. Thorough poisoning, and drying by a fire, or placing 
in the sun, will always answer. Very close packing retards drying. When travelling, or 
operating under other circumstances requiring economy of space, you must not expect to 
turn out your collection in elegant order. Perfection of contour-lines can only be secured by 
putting each specimen away by itself; undue pressure is always liable to produce unhappily 
outré configuration of a skin. Trays in a packing box are of great service in limiting possi- 
bilities of pressure ; they should be shallow; one four inches deep will take a well stuffed hen- 
hawk, for example, or accommodate from three to six sparrows a-top of one another. It is 
well to sort out your specimens somewhat according to size, to keep heavy ones off little ones ; 
though the chinks around the former may usually be economized with advantage by packing 
in the less valuable or the less neatly prepared of the latter. When limited to a travelling 
chest, I generally pass in the skins as fast as made, packing them ‘‘ solid” in one sense, yet 
hunting up a nice restiug-place for each. If each rests in its own cotton coffin, it is astonishing 
how close they may be laid without harm, and how many will go in a given space; a tray 
30 x 18 x 4 inches will easily hold three hundred and fifty birds six inches long. As a tray fills 
* up, the drier ones first put in may be submitted to more pressure. A skin originally dried in 
good shape may subsequently be pressed perfectly flat without material injury; the only thing 
to avoid being contortion. The whole knack of packing birds corresponds to that of filling a 
trunk solidly full of clothes, as may easily be done without damage to an immaculate shirt- 
front. Finally, I would say, never put away a bird unlabelled, not even for an hour; you may 
forget it or die. Never tie a label to a bird’s bill, wing, or tail; tie it securely to both legs 
where they cross, and it will be just half as liable to become detached as if tied to one leg only. 
Never paste a label, or even a number, on a bird’s plumage. Never put in glass eyes before 
mounting. Never paint or varnish a bird’s bill or feet. Never replace missing plumage of one 
bird with the feathers of another — no, not even if the birds came out of the same nest. 
b. SPECIAL PROCESSES; COMPLICATIONS AND ACCIDENTS. 
The Foregoing Method of procedure is a routine practice applicable to three-fourths if 
not nine-tenths of the ‘‘ general run” of birds. But there are several cases requiring a modi- 
fication of this programme; while several circumstances may tend to embarrass your operations. 
The principal special conditions may therefore be separately treated to your advantage. 
Size. — Other things being equal, a large bird is more difficult to prepare than a small 
one. In one case, you only need a certain delicacy of touch, easily acquired and soon becom- 
ing mechanical ; in the other, demand on your strength may be made, till your muscles ache. 
It takes longer, too;1 I could put away a dozen sparrows in the time I should spend over 
an eagle; and I would rather undertake a hundred humming-birds than one ostrich. For 
I The reader may be curious to know something of the statistics on this score —how long it ought to take 
him to prepare an ordinary skin. He can scarcely imagine, from his first tedious operations, how expert he may 
become, not only in beauty of result, but in rapidity of execution. I have seen taxidermists make good small 
skins at the rate of ten an hour; but this is extraordinary. The quickest work I ever did myself was eight an 
hour, or an average of seven and a half minutes apiece, and fairly good skins. But I picked my birds, all small 
ones, well shot, labelled, measured, and plugged beforehand, so that the rate of work was exceptional, besides 
including only the actual manipulations from first cut to laying away. No one averages eight birds an hour, even 
excluding the necessary preliminaries of cleansing, plugging, ete. Four birds an hour, everything included, is 
good work. A very eminent ornithologist of this country, and an expert taxidermist, once laid a whimsical wager, 
that he would skin and stuff a bird before a certain friend of his could pick all the feathers off a specimen of the 
same kind. I forget the time, but he won, and his friend ate crow, literally, that night. 
