INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS. 



for scientific research plausibly, with the apology that the 

 end and aim is knowledge. Are not the lives of hundreds 

 of song-birds a high price for the gain of a doubtful new- 

 species, which only causes endless discussion as to whether 

 it really is a species or merely a freak ? One ornithologist 

 proudly makes the record that, in the space of less than 

 three weeks, he shot fifty-eight Eose-breasted Grosbeaks, 

 to ascertain their average article of diet, and this slaughter 

 was in the breeding season! There is also the stubbornly 

 ignorant farmer, who measures only by dollars and cents 

 and sets his hand against all birds, because half a dozen 

 kinds in the excess of their friendliness invite themselves 

 to supper in his berry patch, and think that no perch is so 

 suitable for their morning singing as a cherry tree in June. 



Now is the time to study all the best attributes of bird 

 life, the period when we may judge the birds by our own 

 standard, finding that their code of manners and morality 

 nearly meets our own. We see them as individuals having 

 the same diversity of character as people of different nations, 

 and it is in the homes that we can best see their ruling 

 instincts. Each bird now has a mind of his own and devel- 

 ops his own ideas. He is master of many arts. 



If you wish to see all this, habit yourself in sober colours, 

 wear soft, well-tried shoes, and something on your head that 

 shall conceal rather than betray your presence, — Mrs. Olive 

 Thome Miller's leaf-covered hat is a clever invention. Do 

 you realize how large you appear to the bird, whose eyes 

 have very many times the magnifying power of our own? 

 Walk gently but naturally, do not step on dry branches, but 

 at the same time avoid a mincing gait. Have you not 

 noticed in the sick-room, that a light easy tread is far less 

 distracting than a fussy tiptoeing? Do not make sudden 

 motions, especially of the arms, — a writer has said that birds 

 are much more afraid of man's arms than of man himself. 



Go through the lanes where the bushes hedge and the 

 trees arch, thread between the clumps of crabs and briars 

 that dot waste pastures, watch every tree and vine in the 

 garden, skirt the hay meadows (their owners will hardly let 



12 



