BIRDS AND THEIR FRIENDS. 
455 
they were the first to awaken in him feelings of hospi¬ 
tality and good will, which, however, brought with them 
not only pleasures, hut penalties as well. The more 
golden the leaves of the trees turn, the smaller becomes 
the number of his favourite guests. We lose simulta¬ 
neously the Nightingale and its song. The Swans have 
gone southward; the wood is bare; the nest under the 
eaves is abandoned. The Redstart and its brood have 
taken their departure amid many bobs and hows, which 
the host doubtless accepts as thanks; the Stork sets up a 
miserable snapping of the hill on the top of the house ; 
and the bonny Starling, with all its jollity, begins 
to feel a sense of heaviness, which it cannot disguise, 
till at last, even it leaves its hospitable friend: they 
have all departed, far, far away to the southward, 
followed by man’s sad glance, for his gay guests have 
taken his heart with them. Time speeds slowly, and 
many a rough day is passed over before they return 
again; and when they do come back, the host already 
begins to think, amid his joy, of the pain of parting 
again. 
Thus, to prevent this pain, and to oppose the immu¬ 
table, it doubtless occurred to man to set hidden nooses, 
or the well-baited net and treacherous snare, in the way 
of the birds of passage, and to encage the poor deceived 
creatures. He wished to attach the truants to himself, 
and nothing more; he did not know that their closer 
acquaintance would bring new pleasures; he did not 
think of the service they would be to him, but merely 
wished to practise hospitality. It is thus that I paint to 
myself how man first began to tame birds : my idea may 
possibly be erroneous; but what of that ?—the picture 
3 p 
