As two heads are said to be better than one, so are two birds, therefore he who wants to raise a strain, should get two good ones, about the end of May—stop one of them. This is done by putting your cage in a box, just big enough to hold it, having a door in front to pull up. Some have a glass in the door to enable them to see the birds; others keep them in total darkness, only opening their prison to give them food and water. The common way is to put the cage in the box, and close the door, by a little at a time, daily, keeping it in a warm place. This is a brutal practice, which I have never subscribed to, nor ever shall; yet it does improve the bird, both in feather and song. By the time he has “moulted off,” the other bird will “come in” stout, and your young ones will take from him; thus you will obtain good birds.
To render your birds tame, and free in song, move them about; tie them in handkerchiefs, and put them on the table, or any where that you safely can; only let their usual place of hanging be out of sight of each other. Their seeing one another makes them fretful. To prevent this, have tin covers over their water-pots.
The man who keeps birds should pay attention to them: they cannot speak, but their motions will often tell him that something is wrong; and it will then be his business to discover what. He who confines birds and neglects them, deserves to be confined himself; they merit all we can do for them, and are grateful. What a fluttering of wings—what a stretching of necks and legs—what tappings with the bill against the wires of their cages have I heard, when coming down to breakfast; what a burst of song—as much as to say, “Here’s master!”
Should any one be induced, from this perusal, to become a fancier, let him be careful with whom, and how he deals, or he will assuredly be taken in. In choosing a bird, let him see that it stands up on its perch boldly; let it be snake-headed, its feathers smooth and sleek, its temper good; this you may know by the state of its tail: a bad-tempered bird generally rubs his tail down to a mere bunch of rags. Hear the bird sing; and be sure to keep the seller at a distance from him; a motion of his master’s hand, a turn of his head, may stop a bird when about to do something bad. Let him “go through” with his song uninterrupted; you will then discover his faults.
In this dissertation (if it may be so called) I have merely given what has come under my own observation; others, who are partial to linnets, are invited to convey, through the same medium, their knowledge, theoretical and practical, on the subject.
I am, sir, &c.
S. R. J.
Foundation of the
LONDON UNIVERSITY.
On Monday, the 30th of April, 1827, his royal highness the duke of Sussex laid the foundation-stone of the London University. The spot selected for the building is situated at the end of Gower-street, and comprehends a very extensive piece of ground. The adjacent streets were crowded with passengers and carriages moving towards the place. The day was one of the finest of this fine season. The visiters, who were admitted by cards, were conducted to an elevated platform, which was so much inclined, that the most distant spectator could readily see every particular of the ceremony. Immediately before this platform, and at about three yards distant from it, was another, upon which the foundation-stone was placed. The persons admitted were upwards of two thousand, the greatest proportion composed of well-dressed ladies. Every house in the neighbourhood, which afforded the smallest opportunity of witnessing the operations, was crowded from the windows to the roof; and even many windows in Gower-street, from which no view of the scene could be any way obtained, were filled with company. At a quarter past three o’clock, the duke of Sussex arrived upon the ground, and was greeted by the acclamations of the people both inside and outside the paling. When he descended from his carriage, the band of the third regiment of foot-guards, which had been upon the ground some time before, playing occasional airs, struck up “God save the king.” The royal duke, attended by the committee and stewards, went in procession to the platform, upon which the foundation-stone was deposited. The stone had been cut exactly in two, and in the lower half was a rectangular hollow, to receive the medals and coins, and an inscription engraved upon a copper-plate:—