But I don't like your ways.

Take this little box, and put your rubbish inside where I can't see it.

Come out when you want to sing; but let your domestic arrangements be confined to the interior.

Keep to the box, and don't make the garden untidy.'" In Germany one breathes in love of order with the air, in Germany the babies beat time with their rattles, and the German bird has come to prefer the box, and to regard with contempt the few uncivilised outcasts who continue to build their nests in trees and hedges.

In course of time every German bird, one is confident, will have his proper place in a full chorus.