108 NATURE NEAR LONDON. 



this dust-heap was the resort of almost every species 

 •of bird — sparrows, starlings, greenfinches, and rooks 

 searching for any stray morsels of food. Some bird- 

 catchers soon noticed this concourse, and spread their 

 nets among the adjacent rushes, but fortunately with 

 little success. 



I say fortunately, not because I fear the extinction 

 of small birds, but because of the miserable fate that 

 awaits the captive. Far better for the frightened little 

 creature to have its neck at once twisted and to die 

 than to languish in cages hardly large enough for it to 

 turn in behind the dirty panes of the windows in the 

 Seven Dials. 



The happy greenfinch — I use the term of fore- 

 thought, for the greenfinch seems one of the very 

 happiest of birds in the hedges — accustomed during 

 -all its brief existence to wander in company with 

 friends from bush to bush and tree to tree, must 

 literally pine its heart out. Or it may be streaked 

 with bright paint and passed on some unwary person 

 for a Java sparrow or a "blood-heart." 



The little boy who dares to take a bird's nest is 

 occasionally fined and severely reproved. The ruffian- 

 like crew who go forth into the pastures and lanes 

 about London, snaring and netting full-grown birds 

 by the score, are permitted to ply their trade un- 

 checked. I mean to say that there is no comparison 

 between the two things. An egg has not yet advanced 

 to consciousness or feeling : the old birds, if their 

 nest is taken, frequently build another. The lad has 

 to hunt for the nest, to climb for it or push through 

 thorns, and may be pricked by brambles and stung 



