hear ourselves speak for the noise of the birds — every tree was full of them. 

 Now, many of the birds have died out". Do what we will, the ordinary and in- 

 evitable practices of civilized man in following what he is pleased to regard 

 as sport, in cutting down the forests, in draining lands — in his mere proximity 

 — are fatal to the existence of great numbers of our most desirable and useful 

 species. Let us, then, do what little we can to conserve those that remain to 

 us by the setting aside of sanctuaries and forest preserves, by judicious feed- 

 ing and by the employment of all other means whereby the elimination of these 

 attractive and useful elements in our daily lives can be arrested. 



Butler (Manual, p. 10) remarks that "Owing to its excellent powers of 

 mimicry, and the facility of rearing it in confinement, it is a favourite cage- 

 bird, both with the natives ani with the colonists. Although of very delicate 

 constitution, it has been known to live in confinement for upwards of ten years. 

 More frequently, however, it becomes the subject, after the first year, to con- 

 vulsive fits, under which it ultimately succumbs. Cleanliness, a well-regulated 

 diet and protection from extremes of temperature are the proper safeguards. 

 Naturally of a sprightly disposition, it is cheerful and playful in captivity, 

 incessantly flitting about in its cage and mimicking every sound within hearing. 

 It will learn to articulate sentences of several words vdth clearness, and to 

 imitate the barking of a dog to perfection. The Maoris appreciated the mocking 

 powers of this bird, and devoted much time and patience to its instruction." 

 Mr, Louis Griffin, of the Aukland Museum tells me that he once possessed a Tui, 

 of whom he became very fond. This interesting animal not only reproduced many 

 of the sounds he heard but repeated a number of short sentences appropriate te 

 various occasions. He took a bath twice a day and on these occasions invariably 

 dipped his head and white choker in the water as a first ablution* He then 

 carefully preened himself drying and arranging his ecclesiastic insignia, after- 

 wards taking a plunge that involved his whole body. Then, when the bath was 

 fully concluded, he would fly to his master's hand, perch himself on it. and re- 

 peat a portion of his conversational repertoire. Twice he escaped from the 

 house and once he returned. On the second occasion, although he remained about 

 the premises for a day or two and answered Mr. Griffin's call, it was the "time 

 of the spring running" and he never came back. His former companion, as he looks 

 at the distant ridges of the Auckland ranges, likes to believe that in some 

 one of their mountain fastnesses his Parson Bird still lives the happy life. 



The Pied Fantail must attract the pleased attention of every visitor to 

 New Zealand, as it is to be seen almost everywhere on both Islands. It and 

 its Australian cousin are among the most attractive of the small flycatchers. 



They seem to be constantly on the wing, performing (with tail wide-spread) 

 the most varied and fantastic evolutions in their pursuit of flies and gnats 

 invisible to our dull eyes; in fact they hold the blue ribbon for artistic 

 gymnastics. The New Zealand bird is facile princeps flycatcher of the world 

 series. 



There are many reasons why the wore* "gull", used as a synonym of "dupe" or 

 "fool", is a misnomer. It is difficult to understand how this misapplication 

 came about. I have made a study of gulls — the birds, I mean — for many years, 

 and rank them high among the intelligent orders. In fact I regard them not 

 only as types of avian grace and beauty but as examples of advanced intelli- 

 gence; and in that respect I agree cordially with the views of the Finleys who, 



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