6 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



the feathered friends we have made, and find pleasure 

 in portraying. We may put them again and again 

 in books without experiencing any diminution in 

 our feelings towards them. On the contrary, after 

 doing our best we no sooner look again on the originals 

 than we see how bad the portrait is, and would be 

 glad to put it out of sight and forget all about it. 

 This lustre, this peculiar grace, this expression which 

 I never marked before, is not in the picture I have 

 made ; come, let me try again, though it be but to 

 fail again, to produce yet another painting fit only 

 for the lumber-room. 



After all it does not need a naturalist nor an artist 

 nor a poet to appreciate and be the better for that 

 best thing in a wild bird, that free, joyous, joy- 

 giving nature felt by every one of us. The sight of 

 a wild, free, happy existence, as far as the fairies or 

 angels from ours, yet linked to us by its warm red 

 blood, its throbbing human-shaped heart, fine senses, 

 and intelligent mind, emotions that sway it as ours 

 sway us. A relative, a "little sister," but clothed 

 for its glory and joy in feathers that are hard as flint, 

 light as air and translucent, and wings to lift it above 

 the earth on which we walk. Is there on earth a 

 human being who has not felt this ? Not one ! 



I remember going once to see a member of a county 

 council to try to enlist his interest in the subject of 

 bird protection for his county. I was told that he 

 was the biggest man on the council and had immense 

 weight with his fellow-members on account of his 



