g's sake, or snare in wantonness. Let all
you do have reference to some object to be attained, either to procure
specimens wanted for a collection, or, in cases of necessity, for
food. Bear this in mind, for, without sympathy with creatures
fashioned in as complex and beautiful a manner as ourselves, we can
never hope to be true naturalists, or to feel a thrill of exquisite
pleasure run through us when a new specimen falls to our prowess. How
can we admire its beauty when alive, or feel a mournful satisfaction
at its death, if we are constantly killing the same species of bird
for sport alone?

Another thing: kill a wounded bird as quickly and humanely as
possible, which you may always do by pressing its breast just under
the wings with your finger and thumb, bearing the whole weight of the
palm of the hand on the sternum or breast-bone, and gradually
increasing the pressure until life is extinct. This plan suffices for
even the larger birds, provided you can find a means of holding them
firmly while you employ both hands in the manner previously indicated.

Again: if collecting eggs, be content with half the sitting of a nest,
and if you know of a very rare nest of eggs, do not take them all in
your acquisitive greed. If you see a rare bird, on common land, you
may as well secure him as let "Jack Smith" make him up in a sparrow
pie; but if the bird is on preserved land, or in a retired spot where
no one is likely to harry it, do think a minute before pulling
trigger, and ask yourself three questions:

1. Will this bird be likely to stay if unmolested?

2. Is it likely to have a mate?

3. Will it nest here?

If you can answer any of these questions in the affirmative, why,
"don't shoot, colonel;" for think of the aid to science, and your own
satisfaction, if you can discover anything new in its habits, or
verify any doubtful point. Many rare birds would nest here if
undisturbed, and come again with additions. The Hoopoe, or golden
oriole, for instance, and many other rare birds, would nest, and,
indeed, do nest here when allowed.

An interesting account of the appearance of the great bustard in
Norfolk, and the pains taken through the kindness of Lord Lilford to
provide it with a mate, appeared in the Field of April 8, 1876. But
alas! everyone is not so considerate, and we have but a select few of
such self-sacrificing people.

I presume no notice is required how to set the first trap on our list
--I mean our