BOUBZE’8 PABBAKEET. 
109 
was made long long before bim, by the anonymous author of the book 
of Job, who makes the Eternal inquire “Who is this that darkeueth 
counsel by words without knowledge?” so true it is, as another wise 
man said, that “there is nothing new under the sun”; and we cannot 
say much more about the Bourke than has been already said. 
The price of this bird, says Dr. Russ, is from seventy-five to one 
hundred marks each, which is about what an English dealer would ask 
for the occasional specimen of a very charming bird that chanced to 
reach his hands, that is to say as nearly as possible twice its weight 
in gold, for the Bourke is not a heavy bird, being plentifully provided 
with feathers, which enable it to bear with impunity the frequent changes 
of temperature to which it is subjected in its own country, as well as 
the rigour of our winter, and the still more trying easterly winds of 
spring. 
What a delightful country this of ours would be, were it not for 
those terrible east winds that, sweeping over the whole continent of 
Europe before they reach our shores, arrive in our midst, not only 
deoxygenated, but laden with miasmata and dusty refuse of all kinds, 
to spread death and desolation on our coasts; but so it is: the “hot 
winds” of Australia, the siroccos of Africa, and the icy blasts that 
occasionally make their way southwards from the Arctic Pole, or north- 
wards from the Antarctic, are all objectionable, not to say pernicious, 
in their several ways; but their capacity for mischief falls into mere 
insignificance when compared with the power for evil possessed by our 
English oast winds, that carry ruin and destruction on their wings, 
and make life itself scarce worth having while they last. 
Yet the late Charles Kingsley professed to like the cast wind, and 
even wrote, we understand, an ode, or a song in praise of it! which, 
to our mind, was carrying insular singularity to a singular extreme. 
“When the wind is in the east^'’, says an ancient rhyme, “’tis neither 
good for man, nor beast”, a sentiment with which we are entirely in 
accord, and yet Bourke^s Parrakeet seems to take no account of those 
east winds, beyond ruffling up his feathers a little, and seeking the 
shelter of the covered-in portion of the aviary. 
It seems cruel, nevertheless, to expose the natives of a semi-tropical 
clime to such ungenial influences; but what enormities will not men, 
and women too, perpetrate in order to the gratification of their appetites 
and whims? 
We fancy those birds would be much more likely to breed in a 
snug indoor aviary, where the temperature could be maintained at a 
suitable height during the cold months of winter and spring, than, if 
left to the chances of the weather in an aviary out of doors: and the 
