In the aviary are separate cages, erected for the purpose of inclosing such of the males of any of the species, as may have their combative organs in too high a degree of excitement; the punishment for such troublesome characters is, therefore, in the first place, solitary confinement, and should they not be reformed under that treatment, they are finally dismissed the aviary as incorrigibles. It is delightful to visit the aviary at a very early hour in the morning, when the whole of the inhabitants are in the greatest confusion, the servants busily engaged in cleaning the habitation, and giving supplies of food to the colony; the “plumy people” appear in the plenitude of happiness, hopping from branch to branch, or running along the ground, their little throats strain with harmony: the soft cooing of the numerous pigeon tribe is heard as well as the quacking sounds of the duck tribe, who are not gifted with any other more harmonious notes. It is at this time that we can also observe the querulous disposition of these animals. The males of one and the same kind, or of different species, endeavour to grasp all the supplies for themselves, unmindful of the wants of others, and will not permit their companions to perform their ablutions without molestation, although they may have themselves completed what they required. I often observed the mandarin ducks excite the drakes to attack other males or females of the same species, as well as any other kind of bird (not too powerful) in the aviary, against whom the lady may have taken a dislike from some cause or causes unknown to us: there always appears to be one pair, who exercise a tyranny over the others, not permitting them to wash, eat, or drink, unless at the pleasure of these little aristocrats. As the shades of evening close in, the aviary is again in a bustle, the birds setting themselves in their various roosting places for the night, and keeping up a continual chattering, until the whole colony is buried in silence and hidden in darkness. The Paradise Bird then sits tranquilly upon his perch, and no more greets the stranger, but stares in stupid amazement at the late visit. The cages of this, and the other birds in the verandah, are very carefully covered up at night to protect them from cats, or any other midnight prowlers. It once happened, during a total eclipse of the sun, as that luminary became overshadowed, the “feathered colony,” if not in a consternation at the event, was exceedingly puzzled at the rapid and unusual termination of the day, and all retired supperless to bed; they received, however, a second surprise at the briefness of the night, for before they could be well asleep, the cocks crowed at the reappearance of the luminary, and they again resumed their daily amusements and occupations. CHAPTER IV.