with. It is the utterest simpleton of a not-talented family. Its nest is constructed, after the Munia fashion, of fine grass, in a globular form, and should contain, I believe, about half a dozen pure white eggs. But the Brown Munia is "promiscuous" in family matters. It will lay eggs in a neighbour's nest instead of its own, or because it has none of its own, and its neighbour will never be so unneighbourly as to object. Sometimes two or more families will chum together, and others will use the nest as a dormitory, leaving an egg, perhaps, as payment. So it happens that any number of eggs may be found in a Brown Munia's nest, some fresh, some "cooking," and some beyond even that. Theobald found twenty-five eggs in one nest. In an aviary, if you provide little nest-boxes, these birds will behave in the same happy-go-lucky way. I do not understand how they succeed in keeping their place in the world and escaping extermination, but they are making nests and laying plentiful eggs all the year round, so I suppose that the doctrine of chances secures a certain percentage of offspring. The Brown Munia differs from the other species in having a pointed tail and not holding it up. It is a light-coloured bird, pale-brown when fresh caught, but inclining to French-grey if kept out of the sun. Its tail is black, and its breast and underparts are almost white.
I once saw a professional bird-catcher on Malabar Hill trapping Munias. Nothing is easier. I have trapped a good many myself. If you put out a cage with a few birds in it, every passer-by of the same species will come down to inquire after their health,
