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others are near there is danger, but where all the surroundings

are one’s own I find it best to take little notice of escaped Doves ;

after two days they are sure to be hungry—then I have doors of

empty aviaries all left open and seed put down, and the result, as

I have already said, is almost invariably the same : the truant

comes back, and is delighted to live in luxury again.


Certainly the Diamond Dove is a charming and fascinating

pet, and one which, from its not having frequently reared its

young in captivity, leaves much scope for the skill of the bird

charmer. Its price in these days is very moderate, compared

with a few years ago.



HOW THE BIRDS LEARN; OR, NESTING UNDER

DIFFICULTIES.


By Reginald Phieeipps.


My garden aviary can be divided into two parts, or used as

one, as may be desired ; the part next to the house is bare—thanks

to the Parrakeets, but the other is thickly planted with small trees

and shrubs. In this latter I commonly place a few pairs of little

birds, in addition to the larger species, which are my favourites.

Amongst the little ones there were last summer a pair of

imported Zebra Finches, who, like so many of the Australians,

did not commence building until the autumn. The first nest,

built amongst some Virginia creeper which was rapidly losing its

foliage, was interesting, inasmuch as it was perfectly open,

without covering or back ; it was seen by a well-known writer on

birds, who spontaneously remarked that every nest of the Zebra

Finch he had ever seen had been covered ; and so we are always

told—but how many of these nests have been built in a natural

bush ! Long before the nest was completed, the bad boy of the

family, the Satin Bower-bird, himself an irrepressible carrier of

twigs and straws, had noticed the labours of the Zebra Finches,

watched the nest, and carried off the eggs as soon as deposited.

After a pause and a consultation, a second nest was commenced,

this time in a pollard holly off which every bough had been

lopped, on the top of the stump, and protected by a fairly thick

growth of young shoots, about a foot long, above and around the

nest. This nest, as originally constructed, was quite open ; and,

notwithstanding the leaves, the brilliant little eggs were only

too conspicuous; but the Bower-bird never went near this

nest: the many prickly leaves and the absence of perching

accommodation kept him at a distance. Nevertheless, the eggs



