OPENING ADDEESS. 9 



ing of the bird to an alarming height, and the sudden 

 descent of the foot, two-toed and "nothing more," on the 

 man's breast is a sufficient explanation of the fall of the 

 poor blacksmith, for the Ostrich was privileged but the 

 blacksmith was not: give and take being necessarily pro- 

 hibited among the living specimens. Some time before 

 this the adult male Ostrich in our museum (the finest 

 stuffed one I have ever seen) came to an untimely end 

 at Knowsley, suspicion supposing he had not had the 

 full benefit of his privileges. This happened more than 

 forty years ago, but only came to my knowledge a 

 few days since, when comparing notes with Edward 

 Prescott, one of the staff, and who alone beside myself 

 now lives to bear personal testimony respecting the Aviary 

 at Knowsley. This bird was seemingly all right when 

 shut up at night and was found dead in the morning, but 

 without external injury. 



The new Aviary was directly planned and constructed for 

 its special purpose. It occupied a plot of ground protected 

 by a wall and embankment all round it, thickly plan- 

 ned with shrubs and trees, and bearing a girdle of stout 

 hurdles to prevent the intrusion of strangers. A carriage 

 drive passed through this, and the ground was divided into 

 spacious hurdle paddocks, with substantial buildings an- 

 nexed, in which the Ostriches, Zebras, Antelopes and 

 other precious denizens were housed. The most notable 

 feature however was a huge wire Aviary in several 

 compartments, masking the dwelling house of the Super- 

 intendent, in the rear of which were a series of houses 

 with glass roofs and fronts protected with wirework, in 

 which were kept in great freedom, amid dwarf shrubs 

 and trees, the Impeyan and Argus Pheasants, the first ever 

 imported, and other choice birds, such as Curassows, 

 Crowned Pigeons, and other smaller and rare species. 



