The Ashburton Guardian. Magna est Veritas et Prævalebit. MONDAY, JANUARY 16, 1888. THE DANGERS OF ACCLIMATISATION.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 1741, 16 January 1888, Page 2

The Ashburton Guardian. Magna est Veritas et Prævalebit. MONDAY, JANUARY 16, 1888. THE DANGERS OF ACCLIMATISATION.

Under the heading " New Chums," the " Akaroa Mail " has an amusing but withal exceedingly sensible article on the mistakes of acclimatists, and the dangers accruing to the colony there from. It even doubts whether the " humble bee " will prove an unmixed blessing, and thinks that it is possible ifae tapidly increasing members of these insects may seriously diminish the honey harvest, as the honey bee stands no chance with them.. Tpe remainder of the article is so bright an.d readable that we make no apolgy for quoting m extenso. It proceeds ; — " Really the very greatest care should be taken m the introduction of any new bird or insect. The blackbirds are troublesome at Home, but they never entirely devour all the small fruit as they do here, with the aid of the sparrows, and finches, and Pjjier imported • pests. | Years ago we used \q fraye occasional processions of millions of caterpillars ; i the " Razor Grinders " used to sing on every log or tree ; giant grasshopets used to bore holes m every dusty track, and little opes used to get into our boots whenever we Qraljked abroad. No doubt these creatures took a J t ot of feeding, but they only appeared (for sfaoflt tidies, and out cherries and raspberries and x?tfrcr fruits came to full perfection. Tjtic jpo^o ,moko and the tui sang m ! $c branches, but tfrey had not tasted of the fyfeitf&riftyift; *«> d tbc uew

land seemed indeed a land of preserves and fruit and wine. But we were not satisfied, we said, Let's get out birds to

kill these insects that do us a little harm now and then ; we were not con- , tented with King Log but we must < have King Stork, and we have got him , with a vengeance. If we sow a radish seed a saucy chaffinch is waiting to break off the shoot of tender green the moment it appears. Goldfinches, sparrows, greenfinches at»d linnets have < developed such an extraordinary taste for tiny turnip tops that it is only a covering that will save them ; arid as for fruit — save the mark — the moment a young strawberry or cherry or raspberry begins to blush at the thought of approaching adolescence, the blackbirds and their friends devour it. Worse than all they have corrupted our innocent New Zealanders. The honeysucking beaks and feathery tongues of tut and moko moko are now, alas, often seen embrued with the life blood of plums and apricots, of pears and cherries, and it is only the sturdy and familiar robin and eccentric tit that are continual attendants at the "Diet of VYorms." Another amusing thing that ought to be remedied is that these new chums who have so gone to the bad as to have become the most undesirable colonists possible are still protected. In Selwyn County the traditional dish — fie to set before a king — can be enjoyed, but m Akaroa a penalty could be levied on the murderer of each one of the twenty-four blackbirds. We do not say for a i moment anyone would raise such a point, but still they could, and they should not have the power to do so. Had we space at our disposal we could prolong this article indefinitely by telling of the eccentric and vicious gentleman, formerly a Wellington resident, who m early days is said to have introduced those charming new chums — the common slug and the cabbage blight, and to have endeavored to acclimatise a colony of snakes (varieties, as they say m the flower-shows), because he was disgusted with the Colony. We acknowledge be was even worse than an Acclimatisation Society, but they have done quite harm enough we are sure. And then, how about the stoats and weazsels, and King Rabbit himself. Lately the American catfish, a cheerful monster of the pike description, has been spoken of. He is not nice to eat, but he kills all the eels that are, so he would make a really nice resident amongst us, and there is no doubt he will thrive. But we must desist from our grumbling, and though those things are by no means fables, end, like fables do, with a moral, which is — " Tis better far ro bear the ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of."