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BIRD SANCTUARIES IN THE PARKS. 23 
mostly dead ; between these are a series of large green candle- 
sticks, each holding a tall white candle-like object ! — the whole 
made in some kind of metallic composition, if memory serves us ; 
these seem to have been intended for use as gas-lamps, but 
have never been so employed. In the middle is a basin of dirty 
stagnant water, with a fountain which does not work. The old 
tulip-garden is now not only an open space — it always was that 
— but public property. One wonders whether the Wycombe folk 
admire the change ! 
I 
{ 
1 BIRD SANCTUARIES IN THE LONDON PARKS. 
HE steady influx of the rural population into our large 
cities— more especially into London — during the last 
quarter of a century, appears to have been followed 
by a corresponding action on the part of the feathered 
tribes. Country folk, whose visits to London are few and far 
between, picture it in their minds as an aggregate of bricks and 
mortar, to be tolerated for a brief season only in consideration 
of its shops and round of amusements ; and receive with polite 
incredulity any explanations to the contrary. Even Richard 
Jefferies remarked, when he came to reside for a while some 
twelve miles from town, that his preconceived views on the 
subject were quite overthrown by the presence of as much bird 
life as he had been accustomed to in distant fields and woods. 
One of the most interesting facts in ornithological history 
of recent times is the permanent location in our midst of the 
wood- pigeon, once deemed the shyest of its race. Another 
remarkable event is the appearance up the river of the sea- 
gulls in large flocks, foretelling hard weather ; years ago they 
were only seen at long intervals, and then in but small num- 
bers. To various reasons may these congratulatory incidents 
be ascribed. In regard to the gulls, and the observation of 
kingfishers in the suburban districts of late, we doubtless have 
to thank the Thames Conservancy for its prohibition of shooting 
within its jurisdiction. During migration, undoubtedly, large 
quantities of birds pass over London in the night, and are 
attracted by the glare of its lights. On such occasions, strag- 
glers, exhausted by their long flight, often fall or alight, and 
would probably remain — at all events for a time — if they could 
find cover and food. 
The greatest ornaments our open spaces possess, apart from 
the verdure, are the little winged inhabitants, whose presence 
imports an animation and creates an interest in what other- 
wise would quickly become monotonous. There is every reason, 
therefore, beyond the mere question of kindliness, that they 
should be afforded protection as well as sustenance in time of 
