THE HOSPITAL 85 



Birds in illness do not seem to me to suf- 

 fer, and I have watched them very carefully. 

 They purl out their feathers, and act as if go- 

 ing to sleep, frequently burying their heads in 

 the feathers for hours together. They appear 

 dull, and not inclined to eat, but they do not 

 act as if in pain, as a dog or other domestic 

 animal does. When a bird has fits a not un- 

 common trouble he is undoubtedly uncon- 

 scious, as are people similarly afflicted, and 

 the struggle which is so painful to look at is 

 merely muscular action. 



The only way for a conscientious person to 

 avoid self-reproach is to keep close watch of 

 the little captives dependent upon him (or 

 her), and try to attack the first symptoms of 

 disorder. For example, fits are often, if not 

 always, the result of an unhealthy state of the 

 bowels, and if the bird had been closely looked 

 after, some simple remedy would have set him 

 right in the beginning. It is easy for an at- 

 tentive observer to know the moment a bird 

 is uneasy, and he should be attended to at 

 once. 



If a bird appears restless at bedtime, and 

 tries to fly up through the top of his cage, 



