nty I much enjoy to bestow, as a means
of winning what is at first, it is true, merely cupboard love, but it
soon grows into something far deeper, a lifelong friendship, quite apart
from the food question.

Cleanliness is a _very_ important item in a bird's happiness. Whilst
kept in a cage with but little sand and an outside water-glass which
affords no means of washing its feathers, a bird is apt to become
infested with insects; it is tormented by them day and night, and having
no means of ridding itself of them, it grows thin and mopy, and at last
dies a miserable death.

There should be a bath supplied daily, suited to the size of the bird,
and so planned that the cage itself may not get wet, else it may give
the bird cramp to have to sit on a damp perch or floor. When its
feathers are dry, some insect powder may be carefully dusted under the
bird's wings, at the back of his head, where parasites are especially
apt to congregate, and all over the body, only taking care that the
powder may not get into the bird's eyes. The cage itself should be well
washed with carbolic soap and water, all the corners scrubbed with a
small brush; and, when dry, it might be sponged with carbolic lotion
over the wire-work to kill any insects which may yet remain.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

BIRDIE.

Amongst all the different birds which are kept in cages, either for
their beauty or song, there is one which to my mind far excels all
others, not only in its vocal powers, which are remarkable, but for its
very unusual intelligence. I refer to the Virginian nightingale. It is a
handsome, crimson plumaged bird, rather smaller than a starling, not
unfrequently seen in bird-sellers' collections, but seen there to the
worst possible advantage, for, being extremely shy and sensitive, and
taking keen notice of everything around, the slightest voice or movement
in the shop will make it flutter against the bars of its cage in an
agony of fright, and it therefore looks a most unlikely bird to become
an interesting pet; but I will try to show what may be done by gentle
kindness to overcome this natural timidity. This will be seen in the
history of Birdie, my first Virginian nightingale, my daily companion
for fourteen years.

He had belonged to a relative, and there was no way of tracing the age
of the bird when first obtained; I can therefore only speak of those
years in which he was in my possession. Birdie had been accustomed