12 IN A CHESHIRE GARDEN 



one listen for the first note of a willow- 

 warbler, what an interest is the first sight of a 

 swallow, and how gladly one welcomes each 

 of our summer visitors as in turn they arrive 

 from passing the winter in the Sahara oases 

 or among our friends in the Transvaal or 

 Cape Colony. 



In a country unexplored or newly settled it 

 may not be the same, but in England there 

 is no need to spoil the charm of friendship 

 by use of the collector's gun. All British 

 birds have been so well illustrated and 

 described that it ought to be possible to tell 

 most of them by careful observation without 

 actually having them in one's hand. In the 

 interests of science, to make sure of the 

 discovery of a new species or the distribution 

 of a known one, birds must sometimes be shot 

 (and after all to be shot is a less cruel end 

 than to fall a prey to their natural enemies), 

 but to shoot a well-known bird simply for the 

 sake of its skin is another matter. A man 

 who shoots every rare bird he sees, that he 

 may add it to his private collection, is sacri- 

 ficing bird-life for his own selfish pleasure 

 and disregarding the sentiments and interests 

 of the great body of nature-lovers and 

 students. The true naturalist does not col- 

 lect specimens as he would postage stamps; 

 to study the life of a wren in its natural 

 surroundings is more to him than anything he 

 can do with the dried skin of a golden eagle. 



