chief.

On the 19th I discovered the fidgetty, saucy, chattering whitethroat. It was not long before up he flew, making in his short flight what that close observer and accurate describer, White of Selborne, quaintly terms, "those odd jerks and gesticulations," which so clearly distinguish the whitethroat from all his compeers. When this bird ceases its chatter, which is but seldom, and really sings, its song is very pleasing. A joyous trio I heard in the castle-wood, by a nightingale, a blackcap, and a whitethroat, far surpassing all the squalling of the opera. At Welwyn, early on Sunday morning, the 21st, I saw a pair of fine house martins, evidently just come over. First one, then the other, and then both together, thrust their heads into and examined the old nest in the window corner under the eaves of a cottage. They were apparently considering and consulting whether it would be safe to trust to the old, or better to set to and build a new nest. I heard the cuckoo for the first time on the 22nd. At Eltham, on the 2nd of May, two days before it was due, I enjoyed the sight of a splendid swift, careering high in the heavens in the full enjoyment of perfect freedom; bold, dashing about, screaming with delight, the very symbol of health and happiness. The lovely, modest, drab-coloured garden warbler arrived on the 7th; his long-continued, flute-like song is the softest and sweetest of all our warblers. On the 8th I caught a glimpse of the wood wren, and nearly stumbled over what I fancied to be the fern owl. Matthew Hutchinson; Blackheath, June 1, 1844.

Note on the dates of Nidification of Birds at Elden. Nothing of the kind having yet appeared in 'The Zoologist,' I venture to enclose a list of the dates of nidification of birds in the vicinity of Elden, collected by the Rev. Frank Clifford and myself, for insertion in that periodical.

Rook, first egg laid about...... March 13

Greenfinch

..........

April 24

The short-eared owl's eggs were laid in the fens of Cambridgeshire.-Alfred Newton; Elden, Essex, July 29, 1844.

[There is scarcely any subject connected with Natural History, more interesting than the nidification of birds, and a statement of dates upon this subject, from different localities would be highly valuable. The compilation of such lists requires very great care. In Mr. Newton's list, some of the days appear to me very unusual, and rather exceptions to the general rule than indications of that rule. Thus, experience leads me to consider the swift due (so to speak) as an arrival about the 3rd of May, and it surely is a rare occurrence to find it nesting on the 2nd of that month. The nightjar is equally aberrant in Mr. Newton's list; I have often found its eggs five or six weeks later, and never before June. I cannot consider Mr. Newton's dates in these instances attributable to localities, but rare and noticeable deviations from the usual habits of the birds.-Edward Newman].

Anecdote of a Battle between a Hawk and a Weasel.

As Mr. Compton, of Southfield, Wilts, was walking through a field in the parish with his gun, his attention was engaged by a hawk hovering over what he imagined to be a mouse. After due deliberation, the bird suddenly made a dart at its intended victim, which proved to be a weasel. The old adage, “Catch a weasel asleep," held good in this instance; the weasel saw his danger, and instantly seized the hawk by the head. A severe struggle here ensued, but at last the hawk succeeded in disengaging himself, and got away. Nothing daunted, however, he returned to the conflict, as game as at first; the struggle then recommenced, and very soon after the weasel was seen dragging the dead hawk towards the hedge, when Mr. Compton shot the weasel, and found the hawk as before described quite dead, and his head bitten entirely through in several places. — Hampshire Advertiser.

Note on the Grey Crow. While ascending the Elbe last winter, I observed a rather singular trait in the habits of the grey crow (Corvus Cornix), which, although not previously remarked by me, I can scarcely believe to be confined to individuals of Prussian origin. Great numbers of these birds frequent the banks of the river, and, in company with gulls of various species, explore its shores and skim its surface for subsistence. It was the latter circumstance which chiefly excited my surprise and drew my attention. I many times saw these crows, while hovering over the surface of the water, suddenly balance themselves, descend, and while their feet were outstretched to meet the yielding fluid, secure their prey with their bills. These are the birds which in Germany retreat most slowly in the open districts before the rigours of a continental winter, and not before they are driven by its severity into habits of much greater familiarity with man and his dwellings than they ever venture to manifest in this country. For the benefit of your zoological nomenclature I may mention that the local name of this bird in the County Wexford, among the peasantry, is scald crow, and it is one which not unaptly describes his appearance, which is as if his back and breast had been scalded, and all the feathers had fallen off. It is, at least, as much to the

purpose as that of hooded crow, which seems to me to be altogether meaningless. The grey crow remains with us all the year round; and from its increased numbers in winter, must effect a partial migration, but whether from less favourable districts of this island, or from England, I cannot say.-Joseph Poole, Grovetown, near Wexford.

Note on the late departure of the Redwing and Fieldfare from Melbourne, Derbyshire, in the Spring of 1844. The greater number of our redwings and fieldfares left us on April 1. On the 18th I descried a single fieldfare; on May 5, a pair of redwings, and on May 18, a solitary fieldfare arose from a field where it had been feeding. This is the latest period to which I ever knew any of these birds prolong their visits.-J. J. Briggs.

Note on the early arrival of the Fieldfare near Godalming in 1844. The fieldfare has made its appearance in this neighbourhood unusually early this year. This morning I observed six or eight of these birds to rise from the tops of some high elm trees, near Teusley, in this parish, and fly off in a south-easterly direction. I took the 'Naturalist's Almanack' from my pocket, and found the 9th of October marked as the usual period of arrival; and since, having consulted White's and Markwick's Calenders, I find that White gives October 12, and Markwick Oct. 13, as the earliest dates of the appearance of the fieldfare at Selborne and at Battle respectively. The wellknown note of the fieldfare when disturbed, convinced me that I was not mistaken.— Henry Bull; Godalming, Surrey, Sept. 13, 1844.

Note on Fieldfares. About the 12th of May, 1836, I found numerous nests of the fieldfare in an alder-brake near Bergen, in Norway, built in bushy alders, from three to five feet from the ground. Most of the nests contained eggs; five being the largest number. But what to me was peculiarly interesting (having about a fortnight before seen the fieldfares in England extremely wild), was the fearlessness with which they approached me, flying and settling in the bushes close above my head, setting up their feathers and scolding, much as the missel thrush will occasionally do, when her nest, and especially her young, are approached.-W. H. Wayne; Much Wenlock.

Note on the Starling. Large flocks of starlings arrive here about March 13, and sometimes earlier; I have observed them by February 27. After remaining some time together, they disperse, spreading themselves over this and the neighbouring parishes, frequenting meadows, pastures, old enclosed ground, and parks, especially those of Calke and Donnington, which abound with ancient and venerable trees; where they feed on worms, insects, slugs &c. About the first week in April they begin to build, choosing for nidification some hollow cavity in an old tree, especially a rude gnarled oak, sometimes a hole in a wall, and not unfrequently a space immediately beneath the rafters of a house. In the latter situation a pair of starlings built their nest, shortly after which they were shot. Next year the spot was again occupied by a pair, and has been every succeeding year, although a pair has been shot annually. The nest is a mass of bents, shreds of cotton, and feathers, and generally contains eggs about the end of April or the beginning of May. The nest is occasionally composed of clean white straw, and when this is the case, the eggs, which are of pale blue and delicately transparent, when contrasted with the light hue of the straw have a beautiful appearSome eggs are dotted over with a few well-defined black spots, like those of the song-thrush. The young are hatched about the third week in May, and are fed principally with worms, both male and female assisting in the operation. The nest is kept remarkably clean, the old birds carrying away the mutings or droppings in their bills, as occasion may require. Early in September they begin to collect in flocks, which,

ance.

being augmented in numbers, grow gradually larger, until they become of such magnitude as oftentimes to consist of many thousands; and when the whole body settles in a pasture, the ground which they cover seems overspread with one wide, spacious pall (owing to the sable plumage of the birds); and when affrighted, the birds generally rise in a body, and after wheeling through the air for some time, alight upon the top of a broad oak or elm tree, which seems nearly bowed down with the weight of its burden; and when in such situations, it is anything but unpleasant to listen to their chattering voices. About the end of September or beginning of October, the greater part of them disappear, leaving however some small parties of from eight to forty birds behind. These winter here, feeding in meadows and grass lands, in company with rooks, jackdaws or lapwings, and during frosts and snows subsist upon the small particles which drop from the hay with which the farmers fodder their cattle in the field. In spring these small parties increase in numbers by the arrival of other flocks, as we have before described. When attacked by hawks, and other birds of prey, they form themselves into a close compact body, which is in continual motion, and constantly presents some new front to its adversary; in this manner they have been seen upwards of an hour, assuming the shape and exact appearance of a balloon. — J. J. Briggs.

Note on the Swift. I observe White in his History of Selborne notes the late appearance of the swift on the 26th of August. I this year saw one swift on the 28th of August; and two together, squealing, on Sunday, September 1.-F. Wayne; Much Wenlock, Salop., Sept. 12, 1844.

Anecdote of the Breeding of the Grey Parrot in England.

In a former number, (Zool. 104), is recorded an instance of the grey parrot having laid eggs in this country. The circumstances under which this occurred are sufficiently curious, and deserving of notice, but the following particulars are still more curious, relating, as they do, to the completion of the process of incubation, in the production of young birds; and may, I trust, prove interesting to the readers of 'The Zoologist.' Two grey parrots (Psittacus erithacus) were purchased in the market of Sierra Leone in 1840, when about six months old. They were brought to England, and then separated, one being domiciled at Hull, the other at Riccall, near York. In February, 1842, they were united at Riccall; and in the July following, the female laid three eggs. She made no nest, and the eggs were taken from her. They were perfectly white, and about the size of a pigeon's egg. On the 10th of June, 1843, she again commenced laying, and laid two eggs. A nest was now made for her of flannel, and placed in a copper near the fire-place, where the old bird sat exactly four weeks, and one bird was hatched. This bird was reared, and is now in London. She again began laying in November last, and produced three eggs; on these she sat four weeks, and two birds were hatched: one of these soon died from cold, but the other is still living, and is a very fine bird. The cock bird occasionally assisted the female in sitting on the eggs. I have not had time to search for similar instances, but it is probable that some might be found, though they certainly are matters of rare occurrence. I have thought it best to give a complete history of the birds down to the present time; and for the power to do so, I am indebted to the kindness of R. Fielding, Esq., the intelligent surgeon of the place where the fact occurred. It is strange that a second brood should have been hatched so late in the year as November: even in birds of our own climate, this would have been considered an extraordinary circumstance, but how much more so in the transplanted inhabitant of a tropical climate. The natural number of eggs appears

to be three, though in the instance to which I have alluded at the beginning of this notice, seven are mentioned as the number. It is probable that this mention of the fact of the grey parrot breeding in this country, may induce others, who have had oppartunities of noting similar instances, to give the result of their observations to the pages of 'The Zoologist,' which journal may be considered a scrap-book, and this must be my apology for sending to its pages the above rough and imperfect contribution to the history and habits of the grey parrot. Beverley R. Morris, M.D.; York, August 26, 1844.

Note on the habits of the Great Tit. A communication in the March number, (Zool. 449), describing the hammering propensities of the great tit (Parus major), reminded me of a fact which I had observed in its economy, and one which I have never seen noticed in any published account of its habits. I allude to its predilection for hazel nuts, in procuring the kernels of which by smashing them on the branches, it constantly makes the forests resound during the months of autumn, and has often grievously disappointed my expectations, which, excited by the unusual sound, were on tiptoe for the sight of a Picus major, a very rare bird with us, but which, however, is occasionally to be met with. A few blows of the bird's powerful bill quickly lay open the contents, when the shell of course is allowed to fall to the ground, whence I have more than once picked it up after the operation, and so satisfied myself of the fact. I may mention that the nuts appeared to be perfectly sound.-J. Poole. Note on Club-footed Canaries. A friend has suggested to me the advisability of communicating to you the following phenomenon, that happened to the brood of a pair of canaries in my possession. I may as well premise, that it was in the north of Leicestershire, near Loughborough, and that the time was near the end of June, the weather warm. Their first brood was unsuccessful, but the second was to all appearance a very handsome brood of four, very well fledged and full coloured. On the most forward of them coming out of the nest, it fell to the bottom of the cage, and on my picking it up to ascertain the cause, I found it was club-footed. There was no claw at all, and but one or two toes formed, both feet being alike, or nearly so. On examining the remaining three nestlings, I found they were all in like plight, not a single claw amongst them all. And this is the singular part of it, for it would be nothing strange for one bird to be deformed, but for a whole brood to be so is very strange. Both the parents are well formed, fine, healthy birds, in every respect. It was suggested that the claws might have got entangled in the material of the nest, and so have been lost; but after a diligent search nothing of the sort could be ascertained. I may add that one bird of a former brood from another pair was hatched and lived with but one claw; its toes, however, being perfect, enabled it to perch. It is yet alive. — John Morris; Wimeswold, near Loughborough, August 1, 1844.

Note on a singular locality for a Wagtail's Nest. There are at all the stations on the Ayrshire railway, shifts or switches placed between two rails, for the purpose of removing the carriages from one rail to the other. Under the shift of the Lochwinnoch station, a bird of the "wagtail" species has built a nest, and is now sitting on five eggs, although there is scarcely an hour in the day that there is not a train passing over it, and the wheels of the engine and carriages running within two or three inches of the nesting-place of the little bird. It goes in and out as fearlessly as if it were out of the reach of danger.-Scotch Paper.

Anecdote of the change of Colour in a domestic Fowl. As a counterpart to the note of Mr. Bond (Zool. 667), I may state that one of my workmen purchased in the spring