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# NEW YORK HERALD, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1872.—TRIPLE SHEET. week old give them or chickweed. Also pour hot water on it, then mash it and feed have to feed them your and shaping the point one side, as if for a pen; and give them one quill-they leave the nest let begin to twitter and before he has left the as soon as they begin will soon discover how Take the old nest out for a new one, and the in and begin building. ugly to the first brood. pull their feathers out. out of the cage and Put the young canary's get your sand for your as salt will surely kill were comparatively few Their price ranges now piece. SKIN, as crossing with the for the cage. His song is s of some other birds. when allowed; there-ons out to him. These poppy and hemp seed ed at $2 and $3. LINNET very gratifying to their most admired. He has breast, and his wings They are five inches larger bird by an inch his bird is generally $3. LINNET canary seed mixed. A for them. Give them gravel on the bottom a cage seven or eight $2 or $3. ENGALE, Rose of May nightingale is the sweetest singer thrush's wings and tail feathers are dark brown. His song is very electrifying; his voice is so strong, clear and loud that it seems to say, "Pil show you what a thrush can do," every time he pipes his notes, and he has as much melody as power. In a state of freedom and during the spring months is the time to hear him to the greatest advantage, and you can plainly at a half-mile distance. When caged he makes up in quantity what he loses in quality and sings for nine months, instead of three, of the year, and loud enough to give the whole neighborhood the benefit and sweet enough to charm the very souls of all who hear him. Give him a cage three feet long and two feet high, with two perches, the thickness of a man's thumb; give him a pint of water every day to bathe in, and hang the cage out of doors every day when the weather is fine and warm. The thrush will eat dried currants, but they must be well washed. This fruit agrees with his palate and health, but he must have, at the same time, another dish, made as follows:—A tablespoon-ful of oatmeal, mixed to a paste, with sweet, new milk, and this must be removed from his cage be-fore it becomes sour. Another dish, and one that the bird likes still better than the previous, is a hard-boiled egg, chopped fine, and half the quan-tity of lean beef, raw, chopped fine; the juice of a grated carrot, mixed with a spoonful of crumbs of dry baker's bread; and these should be mixed to-gether. This food does not sour as quickly as the other, and he will consume twice this quantity in winter before it spoils. In summer mix cracked hemp seed in place of the beef. In the cage the thrush begins his singing about Christmas. This bird is not very plentiful among us. He is more appreciated in England than here. He is enduring and long-lived. He soon learns to know the person who takes care of him and mani-fests pleasure at their approach, but will get to the topmost perch and farthest corner of his big house and look very courtly and aristocratic if a neigh-bor's cat visits him. She can sit there, looking filled with love and devotion, but it is "no use. Mrs. Grimalkin. You cannot hold a post-mortem to-day on this little fellow's healthy body, no how." Eliza Cook says:— Give me when I die A grave where no marble will shut out the sky; But be sure there's a tree stretching out far and wide, Where the linnet, the thrush and the woodlark may hide; For the truest and purest of requiems heard Is the eloquent hymn of a beautiful bird. THE STARLING Is of a blackish-greenish hue, changing to purple. Its feathers are all tipped with white, and it is nearly nine inches long. Its song is nothing to brag of; but its memory and powers of mimicry make him a wonderful thing. The bird learns all it knows the first two years of its life, and never forgets it, notwithstanding he lives to be seventeen years old. He likes to be allowed to run around a room and talk to himself, and pick up the crumbs and flies; but he makes so free with Silva's workbasket, that she is obliged to tie him by the leg to a chair. Soon after, when she is on the point of saying the solicited "Yes" to young Damon her starling stops her by calling out "You can't untie the knot," to speak three or four consecutive words, he can be taught to whistle three or four airs, and to imitate the song of some birds. When confined, the cage should be nearly as large as that of the thrush, and he should have the same food as the thrush. The starling is very cunning and playful. and amuses himself by hopping into the cradle and waking the baby, and mocking it when it cries. There used to be one in London that, whenever there was a rap at the door knocker he would run to the door with the housemaid, and nodding his head, would call out "How do you do?" Who would not like to own a starling? A pennyworth of mirth is worth a pound of sorrow. THE BULLFINCH Has a dark reddish breast. His head, wings and tail are black, and his back has a patch of gray and white. The female is gray just where the male is red, and red where he is gray. This seems singular, indeed. The birds are about six inches long. The male bird whistles as easily as Boreas, and the sound is "softer than a lover's lute;" but you have to teach him to shape it into song. By first whist-ing to him he will give you almost any tune you want, and come out of his cage and sit on your finger while he does so. But he must be taught all this while very young. The bullfinch likes to listen to the music of a flute. They are natives of Germany. There are plenty of them in this market for sale at the present time. They vary more in their degrees of excellence than almost any other bird. Some of them will not learn at all. Those that bring high prices are the learned birds. They all have rather a stupid look and movement, but they can whistle charmingly, and you get your money's worth. They will breed in a cage, but there must be a green pine bush in it. Treat them the same as the canary bird, and cut their claws when they need it. Their price varies from ten to forty dollars. THE BLACK CAP Is a fine singer, some think him next to the nightingale, although he does not sing at all like one. Cage him and feed him the same as the nightingale. His cage need not be quite as large, and needs no cloth on the top of it. The top of this bird's head does not justify his being called "black cap." His body and wings and tail are light drab, and the cap on his head is a dark brown. His notes are very soft, but very blithe and gay, as if No grief affected yet his breast, Nor to a mournful tale was tuned His soft enchanting lays. The black cap can be bought for $10. THE ROBIN REDBREAST Is a brave, bold bird, and "eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man" that any songs since Solomon's have been found more acceptable to the weary pilgrim along life's dusty highway than the robin's. The noonday carol of a bird, Lake loving smiles we win, dissolved in soapy water—boil an ounce of saltpetre and a little piece of castile soap in two quarts of water and scald the cage with it thoroughly—and wash the bird with it under its wings and joints when nearly cold. A little piece of soft sponge, or feather, is best to apply it with. You can tell gen-erally in time to save your bird by noticing that he is drooping and that his plumage is rumpled, and when these symptoms are apparent attend to them at once. It is well, however, to wash the cage if it is an old wooden one at least once a month "on sus-spicion," sometimes your birds will droop and lose their appetite from other causes, such as cos-tiveness, asthma or the pip; if the latter, you can tell it by their frequent gaping and dry looking tongue, the latter looking inflamed. The best remedy for this is to take a little fresh butter and melt it slowly in a cup and then put a small piece of garlic or wild onion and a few pepper grains in it; then let this mixture stand where it will keep warm enough to simmer for half an hour, and when cold grease the top of the bird's head with it and give him peppergrass in the cage, or lettuce, or a plantain leaf. If it is the asthma that ails the bird he will open his bill, and you can see that he breathes with difficulty. And he has a cold, and it affects his lungs. Linseed tea, by pouring a few drops at a time from the point of a little spoon, is good for him. Peppergrass to eat is also good for the bird. If you judge the bird to be sick from costive-ness give him half a drop of castor oil on his tongue, with a little dried saffron flower put in his drinking water. Some think sweet oil is better than castor; but in trying either be careful not to give more than the above directions require. The finest-voiced bird may lose his song if exposed to cold draughts of air or by being kept in a damp place. Be very careful about this, particularly in moulting time, and give birds baker's bread in new milk if they will eat it; but be sure to give them plenty of the green food above alluded to during their moulting. We have no more right to let a sick bird die by neglecting to attend to him than if he was a human being, and whoever would be cruel enough to do the one would be very apt to do the other. THE SOUTH AMERICAN TROOPIAL Blest power of tropic sunshine! what influence is there in thy rays to color birds so exquisitely and so gorgeously, and yet dealest so diametrically op-posite to us poor humans? No meteor was ever brighter than the troopial, with his res-plendent Per-sian lilly-hued body, with just glossy black and white enamel enough on his wings to make them look to us through his cage the golden treasure he is, sur-rounded by filigree work. And he is reconciled too, to his cold northern home. He is worth more to look at than any caged bird that lives. He is twice the size of our Baltimore oriole, but otherwise he resembles him, and builds in the tropics, high up in the swaying limb of a cocoa-nut tree, the same wonderful nest about which birds wrote— It wins my admiration To view the structure of that little work— A bird's nest. Mark it well; within, without, No tool had he that wrought; no knife to cut; No nail to fix; no bodkin to insert; No glue to join; his little beak was all; And yet how neatly finished. And twenty years apprentice... Vainly, then, Could make me such another? Vainly, then, We boast of excellence, whose noblest skill Instinctive genius foils. The troopial becomes so tame that he hops out of his cage and eats from the hand and whistles for the favor. Give him a large, square cage, buy food prepared for him from the bird store, and give him besides grasshoppers and spiders and angle-worms. He must be kept out of the cold air. He sings loud and elegantly. It sounds like the sweet notes of Beecher's church organ. These birds are very social in their nature; like company, and never quarrel. No poet or painter can do them justice. Their shape and proportions are alike to our swamp robin. The price they bring in the stores is not enough for them. They are sold for from ten to twenty dollars. PARROTS. A few words about parrots and we are done for the nonce. We shall not stop to particularize about any one of them. You will readily understand that we could not about all when we inform the reader that there are nearly two hundred different kinds. Those of our readers who do not know all the par-rot's peculiarities will stand a chance to become acquainted with them if they attain the great lon-gevity that the bird himself does, viz., one hundred years. The parrot is rascally and cunning enough to be human, and when he is heard to say the right word in the right place you feel as if he is at least the connecting link. There was once a "pretty Poll," whose home was on Sansome street, San Francisco, that was wont to get his mistress into trouble frequently by saying disagreeable things to the passers by. There was a very portly boarding house keeper, who lived around the corner from Poll, that for years had gone past the house to the Washington Market, but was obliged to change her route at last to avoid being made furious by "pretty Poll's" salute as soon as she rounded the corner, "Well, fatty!" "Well, fatty!" "Well, fatty!" "Fatty! fatty! fatty!" until the woman was out of sight, and then she could hear his laugh. There was another parrot, owned at the same time by the keeper of a candy store in Vallejo street, who, when the run came on Adams & Co.'s bank, drew her gold out and hid it for safety under a floor board. One day a beggar came in, and the storekeeper shook her head and said, "I've got no money for you." "Look under the floor," cried Polly, and when he saw the woman looked fright-ened he laughed as if he enjoyed it hugely. But all parrots do not talk. A round cage best suits them, and they are very little trouble. An anecdote is told of one, owned by a deacon, that got out of its cage and up in a tree. The deacon went after it, and stood looking wistfully at Poll, and tried to coax the bird down, but Polly only laughed and said "let us pray." We close with our readers for to-day by echoing Polly's remark. # THE STRIKE TRADES UNIONS Beginning of the War-Pro-gress of the Coopers' Union-Railroad Strike-Ben-sel-Want Political Action. Judging from the events of the past week it would seem that the officers of the Coopers' Union and trades unions generally are determined to do them serious loss to more than one branch of industry to the entire community, and that the matter is about to be renewed in all its vigor. Two weeks ago the Coopers' Union was on strike and the quarrel between them and their em-ployers continued WITH UNUSUAL on both sides up to yesterday, when a compromise slight lull took place. The following notice was announced in one of the morning papers as the strike of the operatives on the New York Central Railroad and its branches yesterday or to-morrow. The notice stated that the reason of the proposed diminution in working hours was to be given this year, according to the agreement, and that so WIDE-SPREAD was the sense of injury to the opera-tives on these roads that several towns on the line had come to New York to see the officers of the company and demand their demands. If these were conceded to a general strike, and precautions were to be taken that the disaffected were not to be BY UNSEEN from the West or elsewhere. view of this state of affairs, the day yesterday yesterday both these reported strikes are under the same authority, and for the benefit of the same cause. SUNDAY HERALD is enabled to give an ac-curate history of the Coopers' Union's quarrels. The reporter first visited the headquarters on Broadway, and inquired for the Secretary of the Production Committee, who have been appointed to resist the chants to resist THE DISAFFECTION at all hazards. The first man to whom which Mr. Bensel makes his cause, origin and progress, doubt be read with the greatest interest. REPORTER—Mr. Bensel, sir, I understand the HERALD for the reason that the strike has been going on for some time between the Coopers' Trade Union and the employers. Mr. BENSEL—Well, sir, if you are really con-cerned I may tell you that the cause of the strike is the "Union," which works MAKE IT has caved in, and to-day's work has been passed by the Union. The Coopers' Trade Union—number 2 I think it is—has determined to apply for work at the same rate of wages, and where non-union men are employed. "Then the necessity of the Production Committee is to hold at the same rate of wages, will it not?" "Not at all. Now that we have the power we will go on with our work, and we will succeed in effecting our object." "And what is that?" "I can better answer that by telling you how this strike commenced. I was formerly a 'union' workman. I was a member myself in 1865, and the TURNER Since that time I have been a member of a trade union, and I am now an em-ployer in New York who employs 'non-union' men. The business are obliged, much to the chagrin of the members of the trade union, to pay Mr. W. J. Wilcox, of Washington, N. J. Two weeks ago he discovered that he had a proper amount of work, and that a certain number of men he employed were non-union workmen and he found that these men could do the work which he was doing for forty-two. To GET RID OF he adopted a plan which was in direct practice of the trade, and he determined to men to keep a "tally" of the work done by each, or, in other words, to keep a record of man an account of the work done during the day. This was unconstitutional under the rules of the Union,
