ii4 BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE 



few captive birds in cages, and is accustomed to say 

 of them, These at any rate are safe, rescued from 

 subjection to ruthless conditions, sheltered from the 

 inclement weather and from enemies, and all their 

 small wants abundantly satisfied ; who once or 

 twice every day looks at his little captives, presents 

 them with a lump of sugar, whistles and chuckles 

 to provoke them to sing, then goes about his business, 

 flattering himself that he is a lover of birds, a being 

 of a sweet and kindly nature* It is all a delusion, 

 a distortion and inversion of the truth, so absurd 

 that it would be laughable were it not so sad, and the 

 cause of so much unconscious cruelty* The truth is 

 that if birds be capable of misery, it is only in the 

 unnatural conditions of a caged life that they ex- 

 perience it ; and that if they be capable of happiness 

 in a cage, such happiness or contentment is but a 

 poor pale emotion compared with the wild exuberant 

 gladness they have in freedom, where all their 

 instincts have full play, and where the perils that 

 surround them do but brighten their many splendid 

 faculties. The little bird twitters and sings in its 

 cage, and among ourselves the blind man and the 

 cripple whistle and sing too, feeling at times a lower 

 kind of contentment and cheerfulness. The chaffinch 

 in East London, with its eyeballs seared by red-hot 

 needles, sings too in its prison, when it has grown 

 accustomed to its darkened existence, and is in 



