482 
BIRD-LIFE. 
carol blythely and bonnily to the opening dawn. They are 
the sirens of the bird-catcher : their song, like that of the 
fabled “ Lorelei,” leads to destruction. Through the 
medium of this song the brethren of the decoy-bird are 
lured to our hands; without him we should labour in 
vain; and to enable him to perform this duty properly it 
is necessary to stop the bird’s song when it would 
naturally be strongest, and now we allow the stream of 
melody, hitherto arrested, to burst forth in all its beauty. 
This is hard, but yet not cruel, like the means adopted 
by that fowler and fancier who, deaf to all cries of com¬ 
passion, deprives his song-birds and decoys of sight, cle 
facto , by putting out their eyes, so that they may be kept 
ignorant of the season outside their prison,—whether 
spring, summer, autumn, or winter. These poor blind 
creatures sing almost the whole year round, as though 
imploring spring to come, and ever hoping that their 
night will at last turn to day—poor creatures! We, 
however, have nothing in common with such people or 
such brutality; w T e simply do what is necessary, and 
restore our songsters to spring as soon as it is in our 
power. 
At last we have reached the fowler’s hut: small as it 
is, it contains a vast amount of pleasure. In it the bird- 
catcher passes some of the happiest hours of his life, for 
he leaves his cares outside. The works of men—their 
quarrels, strifes, and bickerings—do not reach him here : 
in this hut the lover of birds lives his true self, because 
he lives naturally. This is a haunt to which one becomes 
daily more and more attached. 
These tiny huts are comfortable in the extreme; you 
can make them perfectly habitable to your taste : you can 
arrange them so as to be able to take your coffee, smoke 
