How can I catch a Nightingale ? - As I live in 

 the country, and have no chance of being ab]e 

 to buy a nightingale, can you tell me how to 

 catch one? I wish to know immediately. — Gr. J. 



[We dare say you do ! But } r ou err greatly in 

 asking such a question of us — such determined 

 enemies to the bird-catchers! We write for the 

 benefit of the poor innocents who have fallen 

 victims to the machinations of these hardened 

 ruffians, — creatures in human form, who sleep all 

 night under a hedge with a view to pounce upon 

 their unsuspecting entertainers the moment the 

 sound of their mellifluous voices falls upon the ear 

 at early dawn. " Hanging" were far too humane 

 a death for these iron-hearted outcasts, whose 

 artfully-spread snares too often meet our eye 

 whilst walking on the Sabbath morn to a neigh- 

 boring church. If you are possessed of a night- 

 ingale, and want to know how to feed him, then 

 write to us, and we will tell you. As we have 

 before remarked, our object is to do for birds in 

 confinement what the ever- memorable Mrs. Fry 

 did for the prisoners in Newgate. Save them, 

 she could not; but she could and ^ameliorate 

 their condition. From your letter, we gather 

 you are yet young. Take a lesson of advice, 

 kindly offered, from one older than yourself] 



Gold Fish; How to tame them, fyc. — I have been 

 very much interested in your remarks about 

 Gold Fish, and bear willing testimony to the fact 

 of their being easily tamed and rendered fami- 

 liar. Also of their powers of recognition, and 

 great affection for those who feed them. It was 

 an observance of these two last peculiarities that 

 induced me to pursue the study of these elegant 

 creatures' habits. Not that all their race are 

 alike, — for many are timid, and dart wildly away 

 at your approach. The food of which I found 

 my pets most particularly fond was the larvse of 

 gnats; and when a basin of water containing 

 these delicacies was placed within their view, 

 their delight was unmistakeably apparent. I fed 

 them in this manner generally in an evening, and 

 I always found them anxiously on the look out 

 for me. They were also very fond of small min- 

 nows, to which they gave chase directly they 

 were placed in the bowl. Singular to state, they 

 never ate any of these little creatures in the day 

 time ; but I invariably found them devoured in 

 the morning. The minnows, I perceived, bravely 

 defended - themselves when attacked ; but, of 

 course, superior strength eventually triumphed. 

 I was very successful in taming my gold fish. 

 They would come at command in a body to the 

 top of the water, and affectionately rub them- 

 selves against an extended finger. One, larger 

 than the rest, often lashed the water with his 

 tail, — such was the exuberance of his delight at 

 my approach. They were all very sensitive to 

 the sound of music, — listening attentively and 

 motionless, whilst it continued, and evidently 

 grieved when it ceased. Their aversion for 

 strangers was great; but they recognised all the 

 members of our family, with whom they were on 

 the best terms. One curious circumstance I must 

 mention ; and that is, their marked attachment to 

 one particular minnow, who, although forming 

 one of others doomed for destruction, yet so won 

 upon the inmates of my glass bowl, that they 



treated him with unreserved affection,— nor 

 would they ever let him be injured in any way. 

 We knew him readily, by part of his tail having 

 been bruised when he was first taken. I some- 

 times took the minnow out to see what would be 

 the result; and I invariably found that his ab- 

 sence occasioned uneasiness to his fellows, who 

 were overjoyed at his return. This went on for 

 more than twelve months, when an epidemic 

 carried off in a few short hours all the "happy 

 family." I quite agree with you, that bread 

 should be altogether dispensed with. It is use- 

 less as food, and dangerous in its effects on the 

 water — Agatha C. 



[The same amiability as evinced by these 

 golden fish, we ourselves have discovered as 

 existing with the minnow. The above little 

 episode is a pleasing evidence of how affection 

 begets affection ; and how anything, or anybody, 

 may be won over by what we all ought to prac- 

 tise — kindness. Ever since our boyhood, we have 

 sailed on one tack in this matter, and always 

 found our way into port without any difficulty. 

 We can therefore give the right hand of friend- 

 ship to the fair Agatha, and hope to have many 

 other such amiable correspondents.] 



On Cruelty to Animals. — Will you, Mr. Editor, 

 kindly oblige me by inserting the following letter, 

 the particulars in which are all true? [The letter 

 is too long for insertion; but it is an excellent 

 letter, from a good and a kind-hearted lady, evi- 

 dently, — a lady whose pen, ere now, has contri- 

 buted towards enriching our pages. The way in 

 which bullocks, calves, sheep, and other animals 

 are treated, whilst passing through our public 

 streets, is indeed horribly brutal. We constantly 

 see bullocks' tails twisted till the joints break; 

 sheep struck with a heavy bludgeon till they are 

 maimed ; and calves packed into a space admitting 

 of nothing hut inevitable suffocation. Our fair cor 

 respondent details many of these atrocities in the 

 most graphic manner. We must, injustice to her, 

 append the finale to her letter.] Can these ani- 

 mals, pent up as they are (the living among the 

 dead and dying), be fit for human food? Yet is 

 this, and all connected therewith, looked upon 

 daily by the public with stoical indifference! 

 They shut their eyes to what is passing, and turn 

 their heads away, fearing perhaps lest their neigh- 

 bors should laugh at their weakness ! Is it a 

 weakness to be humane? or to feel for a helpless 

 inoffensive animal, subjected to brutal torture ? 

 Oh, surely not, surely not, Mr, Editor! "Mercy" 

 is Heaven-born. Help me, do ; and let the cry 

 even of a woman be heard in swcAacause! — 

 Jane W. 



[Let us hope, Miss Jane, that your womanly 

 cry will be heard far and near. Would that all 

 hearts were like yours!] 



The Black- Cap an Imitator of the Nightingale. 

 — The blackcap is abundant with us; it comes 

 on the 13th of April, and stays and sings all 

 the summer through. Nothing ever delights 

 me more than the song of this bird. He has 

 decidedly more compass and variety than any 

 other English bird, except the nightingale; he 

 begins with a soft, low, melodious whistle, like 

 the voice of the nightingale heard afar off, or 



