82 MATESHIP WITH BIRDS 



would do much to even down the poetic path. I 

 suppose, however, we shall have to wait many years 

 ere this is done, and until the sweetening effect of 

 human association gives to our bird-life an irresist- 

 ible poetic appeal." 



That is quite correct, excepting, perhaps, the 

 suggestion regarding the necessity for many years 

 of waiting. Personally, I have tried frequently, 

 chiefly through the medium of daily, weekly, and 

 monthly publications in three States, to evolve 

 euphony in Australian woodland names, and the 

 meagre results of the search have not altered the 

 opinion that much may be done as soon as chil- 

 dren, poets, and bush naturalists join the birds 

 themselves in the pleasant effort. 



Meanwhile, it is well to remember that the 

 sweetening effect operates just as potently the other 

 way about; wherefore, the wise teacher leaves any 

 preaching to the birds keeps out the officious show- 

 man element in favor of the human interest. "On 

 Bird Day," wrote a small girl in an essay that came 

 my way in Victoria, "we had fine speeches given us 

 by human beings." That delightful touch may have 

 been perpetrated unconsciously, but the distinction 

 drawn between the funereal teacher and the breezy, 

 bird-loving visitor (a cleric, if you please !) was too 

 neat and instructive to be lost. As a Solomon 

 Island "boy" remarked to a roving friend of mine, 

 referring to a missionary, "Oh, him 'nother kind. 

 No* all same wite man !" 



To the young, Nature is a joyous playground, and 

 the successful teacher is surely he or she who goes 

 closest to using this playground as a means of im- 



