is, however, to be found in Australia, and is known to the natives by the name of BULLEN-BULLEN, and to the Europeans as the LYRE BIRD (Menura superba). It is remarkable, by the way, that the genius of the Australian language causes many words to be doubled, so that the natives speak of a well-known Australian marsupial as the devil-devil, and of a domestic servant as JackyJacky.

New South Wales is the chosen country of the Lyre Bird, which is rather local, and affects certain defined boundaries. Its native name is derived from its peculiar cry, and the popular European name is given to the bird on account of the shape of its tail feathers. The two exterior feathers are curved in such a manner that when the whole tail is spread they exactly resemble the horns of an ancient lyre, the place of the strings being taken by a number of slender decomposed feathers which rise from the centre of the tail. When the bird is quietly at rest, the tail-feathers cross each other at the curves, and present a very elegant appearance, though not in the least resembling a lyre. In general shape the bird bears some resemblance to a small turkey, except that the legs are longer and more slender, and that the feet do not resemble those of a gallinaceous bird. It is rather remarkable that the egg presents as curious a mixture of the insessorial and gallinaceous aspects as the bird itself.

The nest of this bird is not at all unlike that of the wren, being very much of the same shape, and domed after a similar fashion. The nest is, however, a very rough piece of architecture, composed almost wholly of twigs, roots, and various sticks, which are interwoven in a very loose, but very ingenious manner, so as to form a structure of tolerable firmness, which can be lifted and even subjected to rough treatment without being broken. At first sight it looks like those heaps of dead twigs which are so common in the birch-tree, but a closer inspection shows that there is a certain regularity in the disposition of the sticks, and that the bird is not without method, though that method be not at first apparent.

So rude a structure as this nest would be unsuitable for the tender young, and therefore the whole of the interior is stuffed full of soft feathers. The nest of an allied species, ALBERT LYRE BIRD (Menura Alberti), is made in a similar manner, except that the materials are almost wholly small and rather long sticks. Specimens of these nests may be seen in the British Museum. Both the birds are very shy, and can not be approached without

the greatest caution. Like the gallinaceous birds, to which they bear a strong resemblance, they are fond of scratching large holes in sandy soil, sometimes making them nearly a yard in width and eighteen or twenty inches in depth.

In the "corroboring" places, as the natives call them, the Lyre Bird is mostly to be found, and the experienced hunter` always watches for the disappearance of the bird into the hole to make his advance. Every now and then it jumps out of the hole, and struts about, mocking with wonderful facility the notes of various other birds, and even imitating precisely those of the laughing jackass. It has, however, a very sweet and powerful note of its own. Each bird makes three or four of these corroboring places, sometimes at a distance of three or four hundred yards from each other.

Dr. Stephenson thinks that the corroboring places are not merely made for amusement, but that they are used as traps, in which are caught sundry beetles and other insects, which fall into the pits and can not get out again. In fact, should this theory be true, the Lyre Bird and the ant-lion have a similar method of trapping their prey in sandy pitfalls, though the former is a bird and the latter an immature insect.

OUR last example of the Building Birds will be the well-known BOWER BIRD of Australia (Ptilonorhynchus holosericeus).

Perhaps the whole range of ornithology does not produce a more singular phenomenon than the fact of a bird building a house merely for amusement, and decorating it with brilliant objects as if to mark its destination. Such a proceeding marks a great progress in civilization, even among human races. The savage, pure and simple, has no notion of undergoing more labor than can be avoided, and thinks that setting his wives to build a hut is quite as much labor as he chooses to endure.

The native Australians have no places of amusement. They will certainly dance their corrobory in one part of the forest in preference to another, but merely because the spot happens to be suitable without the expenditure of manual labor. The Bushman has no place of resort, neither has the much farther advanced Zulu Kafir. Even the New Zealander, who is the most favorable example of a savage, does not erect a building merely for the purpose of amusement, and would perhaps fail to comprehend that such an edifice could be needed. Such a task is left to the civil

ized races, and it is somewhat startling to find that in erecting a ballroom, or an assembly-room, or any similar building, we have been long anticipated by a bird which was unknown until within the last few years. Truly nothing is new under the sun.

The ballroom, or "bower," which this bird builds is a very remarkable erection. Its general form can be seen by reference to the illustration, but the method by which it is constructed can only be learned by watching the feathered architect at work. Fortunately there are several specimens of this bird at the Zoological Gardens, and I have often been much interested in seeing the bird engaged in its labors.

Whether it works smartly or not in its native land I can not say, but it certainly does not hurry itself in this country. It begins by weaving a tolerably firm platform of small twigs, which looks as if the bird had been trying to make a door-mat and had

nearly succeeded. It then looks for some long and rather slender twigs, and pushes their bases into the platform, working them tightly into its substance, and giving them such an inward inclination that, when they are fixed at opposite sides of the platform, their tips cross each other and form a simple arch. As these twigs are set along the platform on both sides, the bird gradually makes an arched alley, extending variably both in length and height.

When the bower is completed, the reader may well ask the use to which it can be put. It is not a nest, and I believe that the real nest of this bird has not yet been discovered. It serves as an assembly-room, in which a number of birds take their amusement. Not only do the architects use it, but many birds of both sexes resort to it, and continually run through and round it, chasing one another in a very sportive fashion.

While they are thus amusing themselves, they utter a curious, deep, and rather resonant note. Indeed, my attention was first attracted to the living Bower Bird by this note. One day, as I was passing the great aviary in the Zoological Gardens, I was startled by a note with which I was quite unacquainted, and which I thought must have issued from the mouth of a parrot. Presently, however, I saw a very glossy bird, of a deep purple hue, running about, and occasionally uttering the sound which had attracted me. Soon it was evident that this was a Bower Bird engaged in building an assembly-room, and after a little while he became reconciled to my presence, and went on with his work. He went about it in a leisurely and reflective manner, taking plenty of time over his work, and disdaining to hurry himself. First he would go off to the farther end of the compartment, and there inspect a quantity of twigs which had been put there for his use. After contemplating them for some time, he would take up a twig and then drop it as if it were too hot to hold. Perhaps he would repeat this process six or seven times with the same twig, and then suddenly pounce on another, weigh it once or twice in his beak, and carry it off. When he reached the bower he still kept up his leisurely character, for he would perambulate the floor for some minutes, with the twig still in his beak, and then perhaps would lay it down, turn in another direction, and look as if he had forgotten about it. Sooner or later, however, the twig was fixed, and then he would run through the bower several times, utter his loud cry, and start off for another twig.

Why these birds should trouble themselves to make this bower is a problem as yet unsolved. Had the structure served in any way as a protection from the weather, there would have been a self-evident reason for its existence; but the arching twigs are put together so loosely that they can not protect the birds from wind. or rain. Whatever may be the object of the bower, the birds are so fond of it that they resort to it during many hours of the day, and a good bower is seldom left without a temporary occupant.

Ornament is also employed by the Bower Bird, both entrances of the bower being decorated with bright and shining objects. The bird is not in the least fastidious about the articles with which it decorates its bower, provided only that they shine and are conspicuous. Scraps of colored ribbon, shells, bits of paper, teeth, bones, broken glass and china, feathers, and similar articles, are in great request, and such objects as a lady's thimble, a tobaccopipe, and a tomahawk have been found near one of their bowers. Indeed, whenever the natives lose any small and tolerably portable object, they always search the bowers of the neighborhood, and frequently find that the missing article is doing duty as decoration to the edifice.

This species is more plentiful than another Bower Bird which will presently be described. As is the case with many birds, the adult male is very different from the young male and the female in his coloring. His plumage is a rich, deep purple, so deep indeed as to appear black when the bird is standing in the shade. It is of a close texture, and glossy as if made of satin, presenting a lovely appearance when the bird runs about in the sunbeams. The specific name, Holosericeus, is composed of two Greek words signifying all silken, and is very appropriate to the species. The female is not in the least like the male, her plumage being almost uniform olive-green, and the young male is colored in a similar

manner.

ANOTHER species of Bower Bird inhabits New South Wales, and, on account of its variegated plumage, is called the SPOTTED BOWER BIRD (Chlamydera maculata).

The bower which is built by this bird is of very great comparative size, being sometimes a full yard in length, and the arches higher than those of the previous species. Long grass is plentifully interwoven among the twigs, and the decorations of stones, shells, and feathers extend to a considerable distance from either