THE PAINTED HONEY-EATEE. 221 



I may perhaps throw out a hint to collectors of birds' nests, 

 that they would always increase the value of the nest by retain- 

 ing as much as possible of the branch on which it was placed, 

 as the interest greatly depends upon the precise relation which 

 the nest bears to its locality. None, for example, can properly 

 appreciate the extreme beauty of the nest built by the chaffinch, 

 until they see the exquisite manner in which the exterior is 

 covered with mosses and lichens, which exactly resemble in 

 colour the bark of the branches amid which it rests. The pretty 

 cup-like nest of the goldfinch, the domed structure of the long- 

 tailed titmouse, the basin-shaped home of the thrush, and the 

 clumsy structure of the rook, are all so beautifully adapted to 

 the situation which they occupy, that to remove them from their 

 surroundings is to deprive them of half their value. 



Although the leaves cannot be induced to retain their form or 

 colour, and always become crisp, and dry, and shrivelled, and 

 brown, the branches still keep their form, and, if properly managed, 

 may be made to retain their position. The best plan for restoring 

 the nest to its original appearance is to substitute for the dried 

 foliage a new set of artificial leaves, which are now made so true 

 to nature that they can scarcely be distinguished from their 

 living models. Only, it is to be hoped that the arsenical green 

 will not be used, not only on account of its poisonous qualities, 

 b\it also of its peculiar hue, which is quite unlike that of 

 living leaves. The life-like appearance of the hark can easily be 

 restored by the judicious use of colour, moistened wafers, and 

 varnish. 



The eggs, too, should always be made to appear in their 

 natural hues, which in many instances are lost when the con- 

 tents are removed. This is invariably the case with aU of the 

 smaller eggs where the shell is not deeply coloured ; and in 

 some instances, such as the egg of the kingfisher, the swift, the 

 dipper, and the sand-martin, the colour of the egg is changed 

 from delicate pink to chalk-white. I always renew the colour 

 of these eggs by injecting a mixture of carmine and gamboge — a 

 single drop is sufficient for a small egg ; and in order to prevent 

 it from drying in streaks and blots, I hold it over a spirit-lamp, 

 or before a fire, and turn it continually until it is quite dry. An 

 unblown egg should be kept as a model whereby the colour can 

 be precisely determined ; and when it is properly done, the effect 



