the red-throated diver was in winter plumage: both of them are now in my collection. I have also purchased a female of the pink-footed goose, shot at Patrington, in Holderness, on the 14th of February, 1844. — Robert John Bell; Mickleover House, near Derby, April, 1844.

Note on the Black-headed Gull. I beg to make a few remarks upon Mr. Jerdon's statements respecting the habits of the black-headed gull (Zool. 245), which I think are correct and good. The black-headed gulls from March to July are my daily companions, and therefore I have many opportunities of observing their habits. These birds are the frequent attendants on the ploughman throughout the whole of this district, and as they pick up worms and grubs, and seem to have no relish for vegetable productions, they are great favourites with the farmers. But their unfailing support is met with on our marshes and extensive flat sands, where, on the retiring tide, they find an abundant supply of Crustacea and small fishes. Here indeed many of them are engaged during the whole day, for a considerable portion of the year, in coursing for food, as described by Mr. Jerdon. At one time" skimming the surface of the water," at another hovering over their prey like a kestril over a mouse, and then, like the tern, dashing into the water and emerging again instantly, either swallow the prize or carry it away to their expecting young. But the passage in Mr. Jerdon's notes more interesting to me than any other, is where he says (at p. 246) “a peculiarity in its habits which I have not seen noticed is, that it is very crepuscular." This peculiarity I myself have noticed for many years, and I can certify that it is not an accidental, but an almost invariable practice with the black-headed gull to indulge in evening or even twilight excursions in search of food. The great object of this bird's pursuit here in the evening, is a large moth, which, as twilight approaches, may be seen floating over uncut meadows and tufts of grass in pasture lands, where the moth conceals itself during the day. When these moths begin to arise in the evening from the rank herbage in front of my house, I calculate on the immediate appearance of a number of black-headed gulls, and am seldom disappointed. It is indeed a most amusing and interesting sight to witness the elegant evolutions of these beautiful birds when in pursuit of these large moths. Oftentimes brushing the surface of the ground with their downy breasts, and generally capturing with facility the moth as it hovers at an elevation of from one to two feet above the earth. Occasionally, however, the bird misses its aim, and the moth, by the rapid motion of the gull, is struck to the ground. The bird, however, nothing daunted, immediately, as Mr. Jerdon remarks, “rounds to," hovers for a few seconds over the retreat of its fallen prey, and if it perceives its victim imbedded in the grass, pounces upon it, or if disappointed, flies off in search of another prize. I also beg to add, that I have repeatedly been witness to the blackheaded gulls quitting their extensive breeding grounds on our mosses in the evening of a hot day in the month of June, and going forth in search of food which they evidently expected would be met with towards the close of the day. The following statement may serve to corroborate this fact. On the 15th of June, 1843, I was visiting a friend who lives about eight or nine miles from the principal seat of the breedingground of these birds. I left my friend's house about half-past 8, P.M., and had only gone a short distance, when I was delighted to see my neighbours, the black-headed gulls, coming as it were to meet me, in merry parties. In companies of about five, eight and twelve, I first noticed them sallying forth in almost a direct line, as if on their way to some distant feeding ground, and which I have little doubt was the case. As evening advanced, I met in succession new flocks, and then had ocular proof of the

object of their pursuit. In parties of about the numbers above specified, I noticed them hovering over the rich meadows and pasture lands adjoining the river Wyre, and also occasionally quartering the fields in search of the moths, as carefully and assiduously as the best-trained pointers would do when in search of game. I beg, however, to add, that I by no means affirm that these moths are the only objects of pursuit to the black-headed gulls in the evening; still, in this district, I hesitate not a moment to say that they are their chief prey, as twilight approaches, for I have repeatedly shot these birds at a late hour, when in pursuit of these moths, and have found their pouches crammed with them; and so convinced am I of their predilection for this food, that in my diary I have given this gull the name of the "Moth-catcher."-J. D. Banister; Pilling, Lancashire, January 11, 1844.

Note on Instinct in wild Web-footed Birds. There is a striking peculiarity in some of the web-footed birds, which, as I have never seen particularly recorded, I beg leave to send for insertion in your valuable journal; I allude to a habit, whilst in search of food, of dancing or trampling rapidly on the sands when the water covers their surface, and more particularly at the edge of the ebbing or flowing wave, where myriads of little marine insects are seen sporting and leaping, as if exulting in happiness at the return of the element in which they exist, and whose approach they seem thus instinctively to welcome. For immediately on the water overflowing their holes, they appear to receive it with delight, and then sink to the bottom of their homes. Now the above-mentioned action of the bird is evidently for the purpose of raising this species of their food to the surface of the water, by thus sucking them from the sand or mud in which they lie imbedded. Let me also remark, that whilst employed in this singular mode of taking its prey, the Piscator always appears to be most vigilant, for no sooner does any kind of food present itself on the surface of the bubbling waters, than at once it is detected by its watchful eye, and secured as its prey. To this I may likewise add that the bird not merely tramples and loosens the sands, but has the art also with its broad webbed feet to force the water to boil up briskly around it, so that, by this means, much latent food is dislodged, thus amply repaying the fisher for his trouble, assiduity and perseverance. It is also worthy of notice, that in this act of trampling rapidly on the sands, the bird, as it moves its body, generally makes a semicircle, seldom however, as far as my observation goes, forming an entire one. And does it not thus act that it may more easily observe the approach of an enemy? as from whatever quarter danger presents itself, the bird is alert, and can escape the threatened attack. Various kinds of wild ducks may frequently be seen at a distance on our extensive sands labouring in this manner for their daily food, as also the "wild sea mew." I have noticed a shieldrake, not more than a week old, which was hatched and reared by a hen, practising this habit. In this last-recorded instance there was therefore an effort for a livelihood prior to any parental instruction, for the hen, the foster parent, would not, neither indeed could she, after this manner teach her young brood. I have also noticed the same in the young of the black-headed and black-backed gulls, which had been separated from their parents before they could possibly have an opportunity of observing their seniors labouring thus for subsistence. This act then of trampling rapidly on the sands or mud when just covered with water, by such young inexperienced birds, must be instinct, and seems exactly to agree with Dr. Paley's definition of that faculty, that it is prior to experience and independent of instruction.

"Equidem credo quia sit divinitus illis

Note on the Cape Pigeon. Few persons can have taken a long voyage to the southward, without admiring and being interested in these beautiful birds. Their elegant speckled breast and most graceful form, as they float or rather dance over the huge waves, must have attracted the attention of even the most indifferent observer; but the passenger across that wide and dreary expanse from New Zealand to Cape Horn, regards them as companions or associates, for they never fail to afford him both interest and amusement, either circling around in flight, or pirouetting on the water, then chattering in their gentle squabbles over a dainty bit. The wildest storm only brings them closer to the ship, and even before its commencement, they gather into one large flock, which is to the seaman what a rapid fall of the mercury is to the navigator, an indication of an approaching gale. Usually they form little interesting groups varying from five to twenty in number, closely watching every particle that may be thrown overboard; and often, when just arranged round some sheep's offal, have I, with boiling indignation, seen that great monopoliser, the albatross, at one pounce deprive our favourites of their humble meal; but in other places, far distant from the Southern Ocean, the weak have to give place to the strong, and not unfrequently the dinner likewise. Assuming this evil to be irremediable, I proceed to enquire how far the same group will follow a vessel. It is impossible to mark, by difference in spots or colour, any particular individual of a flock, so regular and uniform has Nature been in adorning them; indeed, there can be no ground for jealousy in regard to beauty, for all have been alike favoured. On my passage home from Australia last year, our friends visited us before we reached New Zealand, though we had not a full attendance until the 9th of August, the ship then passing the "Three Kings," at the northern extremity of that colony, and continued till the 20th of October, on which day, in lat. 24° 15′ S. long. 23° 42′ W., we saw the first ship after our departure from Sydney. The pigeons availed themselves of this favourable opportunity of returning to the southward, for on the morrow we had not one remaining. During this interval the vessel had sailed 7900 miles, a distance nearly equal to one third of the earth's circumference. Although the proof of this being but one flock is imperfect, yet the fact of one of the birds being caught and marked with a ribbon, at least 1000 miles before we rounded Cape Horn, and being seen occasionally with his pennant, as it "fluttered in the breeze," during the remainder of their journey over 3800 miles, justifies the conclusion that we had been followed by one party the whole way. Two causes may be assigned for this unusual circumstance; first, that there was no attraction by other ships, and secondly, the birds were never disturbed by the cruel practice of shooting at them for mere amusement.-Henry F. Cliffe; Elm Cottage, Brixton Hill.

Note on the Food of the Tadpole of the common Frog. On examining my journal for the past year, I see that on the 29th of last April I noticed the tadpole of the common frog feeding on the common white slug. This is a fact altogether new to me, and you think it worthy of public notice, have the kindness to insert it in 'The Zoologist.' I should be pleased if some of your correspondents would make an experiment of this kind (which I intend doing this spring), and report progress in 'The Zoologist.' F. A. Chennell; Stoke Guildford, February 3, 1844.

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Note on the spawning of Trout. The following fact relating to the spawning of trout in the river Rye, in the North Riding of Yorkshire, which was communicated to me by a friend, who is a keen fisherman, and fond of observing the habits of fishes, may prove interesting to some of the readers of The Zoologist.' On the 9th of last March he was fishing in the Rye, near Helmesley, but met with little sport, killing only eleven trout and some grayling. On examining the fish, five of the trout proved to be full of spawn, the grains being about the size of a pin's head, and of course not far from the time of expulsion. Now I always believed that trout spawned in November and December. It has, I believe, been proved that salmon in different rivers spawn at different times, and that these extend over a period of six months. May not the same occur in the trout, which is so nearly related to the salmon ? If so, this would be an instance of a late and not an early spawning. Whether the trout in this river all spawn in the spring, or whether they continue spawning from November till the middle of March, I cannot yet say; but my friend intends to ascertain the fact this next autumn, and if he succeeds in obtaining any useful information, I will not fail to record it in the pages of The Zoologist.' I may also mention that when fishing again in the Rye on the 29th of March, he found that all the trout had done spawning. I hope some of the readers of 'The Zoologist' will ascertain in their different localities the extremes of time in which the trout spawns, and if these are recorded, we may then hope to be able to render certain, what is now involved in considerable obscurity. Beverley R. Morris, A.B., M.D.; York, May 2, 1844.

Note on the capture of a Sturgeon near Great Yarmouth. A fine sturgeon was taken this morning in Breydon, in a net, by a man who was fishing for smelts. When I saw it, it was nearly packed up, to be sent to London, and I consequently could obtain none of the dimensions but the length, which was six feet. Wm. R. Fisher; Great Yarmouth, April 19, 1844.

April 17, 1844.

Microscopical Society of London.

J. S. Bowerbank, Esq., F.R.S., &c., in the chair.

Read, a paper by J. Quekett, Esq., "On some Phenomena connected with the Movement of the Cilia in the common Muscle, (Mytilus edulis)." After some observations on the nature of ciliary movement, and on the various opinions of former observers respecting it, Mr. Quekett stated that in the common muscle the cilia occur in the branchiæ, or gills, which are four in number, two on each side, situated between the lobes of the mantle. Each layer consists of rays of vessels running parallel to each other like the teeth of a comb, and the cilia are situated on the margin of each ray. The observations in the paper relate more particularly to the motion of the cilia on the sides of the inner layer of the gill-ray. If one of these rays be placed with the inner and consequently the concave side of the cilia uppermost, each column will be found to present, besides the usual curved motion in a vertical plane, another slight but yet important movement on itself, in a direction nearly at right angles to the preceding, which motion is precisely analogous to the movement of the quills in the wings of birds, or to use a more familiar example, the feathering of the oar in rowing. In order to observe this movement in the most satisfactory manner, the motion of the cilia should have nearly stopped, then if we examine that part of the cilia attached to the gill which may be termed the root, with a power of at least 400, this peculiar mo

tion will be easily perceived. Mr. Quekett considers that the propulsion in one direction of the fluid acted on by the movement of the cilia, is chiefly effected by this peculiar arrangement.—J. W.

Enquiry respecting Pontia Brassica and Chariclea, Could any of your readers point out some real and permanent distinction between Pontia Brassica and Chariclea. I caught several specimens last month, which appear to agree with Stephens' description of P. Chariclea, some of P. Brassica, and others intermediate between them. The chief points of distinction given by Stephens, are the colour of the apical spot on the anterior wings, the integrity of its inner edge, the deeper colour of the under surface of the posterior wings, and the smaller size of P. Chariclea, most of which characters appear to vary more or less in nearly every specimen. If therefore these distinctions

are not permanent, is there sufficient to constitute it a separate species? And may not it and the intermediate varieties be considered as belonging to P. Brassica, the variations being caused by the early appearance and other circumstances?-G. S. Gibson; Saffron Walden, May 3, 1844.

Note on Nonagria crassicornis. I have been making a few observations on the manner in which the eggs of Nonagria crassicornis are deposited, which I send for The Zoologist,' thinking they may prove interesting to entomologists. I took a female at Hammersmith on the 23rd of September; she deposited thirteen eggs on a piece of chip projecting into the box, three of them hatched on the 4th of April, five on the 6th, four on the 7th, and the last one on the 8th. The larvæ, on being placed on the young reeds, soon made their way to the roots and disappeared under the earth. They were about a quarter of an inch in length, of a fawn colour, rather darker on the back, the head of a light brown colour, and a scutellation on the first segment of the same colour. The body tapers from the head to the tail, and has several short hairs on the segments. Also on October 23 I took a pair of the same species in copulâ. I then procured a quantity of reeds, which I planted in a box, and placed it in a large cage along with the female moth, where she lived until the 4th of December. When the eggs of the first moth hatched, I cut down the reeds and carefully examined them, to ascertain if any eggs were deposited among them, as on several occasions the moth appeared to be depositing her eggs. After a strict search I discovered upwards of two hundred and fifty eggs, all upon the upper side of the leaves, at the edge, and nearer the point of the leaf than the stem of the reed. They are deposited in single rows upon the leaves, (in one instance I found thirty-five eggs in one row), and as the edges of the leaves curl over in drying, the eggs are as it were concealed in a tube, and are not to be found without some trouble. They all hatched between the 10th and the 15th. The fact of the eggs being deposited on the leaves, and remaining in that state all the winter, will, I think, in a great measure account for the scarcity of the species, as in case the reeds are cut down or destroyed before the time for the eggs to hatch, the whole brood must inevitably perish, and thus the species may become extinct in a locality. — Henry Longley; 1, Eaton Place, North Row, Park St., Grosvenor Square, April 16, 1844.

Note on the capture of Anticlea berberata at Epping. I captured a beautiful female specimen of Anticlea berberata in our own field, on the 2nd of this month. I believe this is the first time this rare moth has been taken near London. - Henry Doubleday, Epping, May 6, 1244.