RING its neck!"

W

at all serious.

Such was the "cure" at one time almost universally recommended in the case of some unfortunate feathered friend whose ailment seemed

Human nature, however, is apt to rebel against a course of treatment that, if short, sharp, and sure, deprives us of a pet whose companionship would be sadly missed. And when it occurred to someone that the study of birds' ailments would form an interesting and, at the same time, a lucrative calling, lovers of all kinds of feathered beauties were delighted. Nowadays there is hope for almost all serious cases of injuries or ailments of birds. The professional bird - doctor, with his medicine case and surgical instruments-and also his little bill!-finds plenty to do in alleviating pain and curing disease.

The ailments to which bird-flesh is heir are surprisingly numerous. Phthisis is the greatest and most insidious enemy to be dealt with. Parrots especially are liable to this terrible disease. Most of the birds of that species imported into England suffer from its attacks. Mr. Little made the surprising statement that out of every fifty parrots brought to this country only five manage to escape the ravages of phthisis. It spreads like wildfire where birds are placed together in large numbers. Mr. Little related particulars of the hard case of an importer who lost £70 worth of birds owing to having inadvertently introduced into his establishment a parrot suffering from that disease. If treated in its early stages phthisis in birds is curable,

Perhaps the busiest practitioner amongst ailing feathered pets is Mr. E. W. Little, of Blandford Street, W., who might boast of having, during a long and successful career, the most aristocratic of bird society as patients, for his practice largely lies throughout the residential quarter of which Park Lane forms the centre, and where the fashion of keeping winged pets has been growing steadily during the past decade or so. The sweetly warbling canary, the comical bigbilled toucan, or the talking parrot may be

Vol, xxii.-58

The photographer has succeeded in snapping the scene, including the miserable. expression of the toucan's eye, as though it had realized that the doctor had got the better of it, at last!

Another very refractory patient was a parrot that suffered from a horny growth over one of its nostrils. As soon as the doctor touched the bird it seemed to realize that something very unpleasant was about to happen, and it acted accordingly. It indulged in "the finest flow of language ever heard," and, as it had evidently received most of its lingual education on board ship, the language was certainly not of the kind usually indulged in in polite society. Its struggles were absolutely terrific. In the end the creature had to be wrapped around with a length of thin twine to prevent its mad wing-flapping. Then, after a good deal of persuasion on the part of the doctor, "Poll" allowed the operation to be performed, and she was carried out of the room shouting, "I want a bit o' bread!" "I want a bit o' bread!" together with remarks of a less Parliamentary nature.

Το

Although Mr. Little does not care about employing chloroform, surgical cases frequently occur in which the use of that drug becomes very necessary. There is a certain risk in placing birds under its influence. minimize that risk a special preparation has been introduced, and this has the effect of rendering the bird to be operated upon unconscious of pain, with a minimum danger of the drug proving fatal. We give an illustration showing how the anaesthetic is

administered to a valuable parrot, which was about to be operated upon for the removal of

a tumour.

Canaries, being naturally fragile and nearly always delicate in our climate, are a class of patient to which the bird-doctor gives special study and attention. They form, as a rule, the larger portion of his clientèle, for, as drawingroom pets, they are by far the greater favourites of the winged world. The treatment accorded them has to be of the most delicate description, whilst the handling of their bodies for various ailments is in itself an operation demanding the utmost care, as an inadvertent squeeze might cause their death. The affection showered by owners of canaries upon their little pets is often quite touching; many ladies making it a stipulation that they are present whilst any necessary operation is being carried out. Tears are

[Photo.

We are enabled to reproduce the photograph of a treasured pet in the form of a canary whose leg had been broken by the fall of its cage from a first-floor window-sill to an area below. The difficulties in the

Cage birds are great sufferers from the overgrowth of claws, which if not seen to in time may result in permanent injury. In gripping the perches the points of overgrown claws are apt to scrape the lower part of the leg, causing sores which, in time, will render the bird a cripple. The doctor's assistance in good time prevents a great deal of unnecessary suffering.

A very delicate operation is the removal of old scales from pigeons' claws, but the process never fails to improve the appearance of a bird, especially when the pigeon is intended for exhibition at a show.

There are many other ailments and injuries which are treated from time to time by the bird doctor, but we have given,

TAKING SCALES FROM A PIGEON'S LEG. From a Photo.

His

way of making a successful "splice" are enormous, the bird naturally pecking away at the splints or bandage until it loosened. But Mr. Little has solved the problem. method is a professional secret, and we may not describe it. Yet the system he employs is so effective that the injured bird will not even attempt to remove the bandage, and the leg is thus allowed to become as sound as before the break. The instance of clever bird surgery shown turned out, fortunately, an excellent cure, and the canary is now as strong on its legs as ever. Here it may be said that the bones of the legs or wings of a bird are those which, by careful surgical treatment, may be set-a broken breast-bone is almost invariably a hopeless injury, to which the bird must succumb.

FIXING A BROKEN WING WITH WIRE. From a Photo.

perhaps, a sufficient number of instances to show that the existence of such a profession means the alleviation of much suffering amongst the denizens of the feathered world.

M

Y friend the Superior Person had been visiting the South Kensington branch of the British Museum, and he came back in high dudgeon. When I met him, indeed, he was literally spluttering with wrath. Evidently his very superior susceptibilities had suffered cruel outrage. "Great Scot!" he ejaculated, in replying to my look of inquiry, "what will the Museum be coming to next? A penny show with marionettes and performing dogs, I suppose. They've actually got a cast of Sandow the Strong Man-music-hall people in the British Museum, faugh!" And the S.P., having delivered himself of this outburst, turned on his heel and tempestuously took himself off.

Now, although I am very far from sharing his opinions on most subjects, his remarks certainly excited my curiosity. That there should be a cast of Eugen Sandow in

the

Museum did not surprise me very much-on the contrary, it seemed to me that the authorities would have been remiss in not seizing the opportunity of handing down to future generations a permanent record of the most perfect specimen of physical culture of our days perhaps of any age. Still, I know what popular prejudice is even in these enlightened days individuals still exist who regard the cultivation of the body as a thing to be frowned upon, who are perfectly willing to hold up to our admiration the beautiful human

forms of classical times, but regard any attempt to emulate these worthies as pernicious in the extreme. So after examining the cast (about which I shall have a good deal more to say in a moment) it occurred to me that it would be a good idea to see Professor Ray Lankester and ascertain how the new departure of having the cast of a living man on view had come about.

Professor Lankester was good enough to devote a few minutes of his valuable time to me, and gave me a very clear idea of his object in advising the Trustees to have the cast made. It serves a twofold purpose, and is interesting to anthropologists for two reasons. Firstly, it presents a perfect type of a European man (and in course of time Professor Lankester hopes to have types of all the races), and, secondly, it furnishes a striking demonstration of what can be done in the way of perfecting the muscles by simple means. A good many people, he remarked, are fond of insisting that the mighty men of muscle which were portrayed in marble by the sculptors of the classical age were simply products of the sculptors' imagination: fancy presentments of men as they might be, rather than of any who actually existed.