262 THE VULTURE'S NOSE. 



I myself have been unable to eat when in the gripes ; and I once 

 knew an old owl which died of sheer want, rather than swallow any- 

 thing in captivity. What would the American philosophers think 

 of me, had I got this owl's demise well authenticated by the signa- 

 tures of divers scientific men, and then despatched it across the 

 Atlantic, in order to prove that owls do not secure their prey by 

 means of their feet, because, forsooth, the incarcerated owl in ques- 

 tion never once struck her talons into the food which had been 

 placed within an inch of them. 



Nothing can show more forcibly the utter fallacy of the American 

 experiments, than the attack of the vultures on the coarse painting 

 which represented a " sheep skinned and cut up." Till I had read 

 the account of it, I had always imagined that the vulture had a re- 

 markably keen and penetrating eye. I must now alter my opinion. 

 If the American gentlemen do not mind what they are about, they 

 will ultimately prove too much (" quod nimium probat, nihil probat "), 

 and at last compel us Englishmen to conclude that the vultures of 

 the United States can neither see nor smell. They assure us that 

 these birds are not guided to their food by their scent, but by their 

 sight alone; and then, to give us a clear idea how defective that 

 sight is, they show us that their vultures cannot distinguish the 

 coarsely-painted carcass of a sheep on canvas from that of a real 

 sheep. They " commenced tugging at the painting," and " seemed 

 much disappointed and surprised " that they had mistaken canvas 

 for mutton. Sad blunder! Pitiable, indeed, is the lot of the 

 American vulture ! His nose is declared useless in procuring food, 

 at the same time that his eyesight is proved to be lamentably defec- 

 tive. Unless something be done for him, 'tis ten to one but that 

 he '11 come to the parish at last, pellis et ossa, a bag of bones. 



The American philosophers having fully established the fact that 

 their vultures are prone to mistake a piece of coarsely-painted can- 

 vas for the carcass of a real sheep " skinned and cut up." I am now 

 quite prepared to receive accounts from Charleston of vultures at- 

 tacking every shoulder-of-mutton sign in the streets, or attempting 

 to gobble down the painted sausages over the shop-doors, or tugging 

 with might and main at the dim and faded eyes in some decaying 

 portrait of the immortal Dr Franklin. 



