CORNISHI COLLOQUIES.

UR early home was in a Cornish valley on the

OUR

banks of a tidal river. This valley, hemmed in by wooded heights, in some parts rocky, was periodically flooded. Its sheltered situation, with the combination of wood and water (salt and fresh), cliffs and meadow-land, gave us an opportunity of observing a larger variety of plants and animals than are often seen in one locality. Not only on the rocky-bank side, and under the woods before referred to, but further down the valley, toward the mouth of the stream, where the river sides were muddy or sandy, have we frequently seen the kingfisher darting about or perched on some low stretched-out bough, or other projection. These reaches abounded with tiny fish, crabs, and many kinds of little marine animals; and many were the sea-birds which frequented them*-cormorants (called "shags" by the Cornish), &c.

Apropos of "shags," I may remark that when staying near the Lizard, a favourite pleasure to my relatives and myself was to go out with the fishermen as far as the tide line and see what they call the "trammel nets" drawn, and I once saw a poor drowned "shag," its feet entangled in the meshes of the net, still holding in its beak the fish after which it had dived.

A pair of Cornish choughs frequented a cliff a long way down the river, and all kinds of gulls seen, with "sea-swallows," even black terns, were plovers, snipes, curlews, woodcocks, sand-pipers, oyster-catchers, and herons.

We often saw in little solitary glens (for as children we had a strange longing to push our way where as we could imagine, "human feet had never trod"), the curious little water-ouzel or dipper"water-blackbird" we called him. I cannot but maintain, in spite of judgment to the contrary so vehemently pronounced by many of your correspondents, that I have again and again seen the dipper walking on the gravelly bottom of the clear streams before referred to-observed them not only diving and swimming, but, as one of your correspondents remarks, "disappearing under water at one place, and after several seconds had elapsed reappearing at another." My husband tells me he has observed the same habits in water-ouzels on the Teme, in Worcestershire, and in Monmouthshire. Their mossy, leafy nests, and dirty-white eggs were more than once found by us.

Four kinds of woodpeckers were seen in our woods-the three pied kinds, and the great green bird.

A fir plantation belonging to some friends of ours

* I believe, since we left the neighbourhood, the whole valley to the river's mouth has been embanked, and part of it brought under cultivation.

was visited year after year (with intervals for which there seemed no special reason) by large numbers of the beautiful crossbill.

Great was the excitement produced in three successive years by the report that a nightingale had been heard in a coppice not far from our housenightingales being unknown in Cornwall and Devonshire. Some of us went again and again (I am sorry to say surreptitiously), remaining till long after midnight to listen to the exquisite song; but those who had heard nightingales sing, pronounced the notes quite unlike that. I do not remember hearing that the sweet songster was ever identified, but it was certainly not a blackcap.

Salmon abounded in the larger streams, and a most delicious fish called "salmon peel," which I am told, since I left Cornwall, must have been 'grilse," "par," sewen," (?) last spring's salmon, &c. &c. All I can say is, at times we bought small salmon, and they were as unlike large 'salmon peel" of the same size, as trout are unlike both. Unfortunately, "mundic water" from the many mines has now spoilt the beauty and utility of most of the Cornish streams, and "salmon peel" are almost a thing of the past.

To Mr. Jonathan Couch, of Polperro, I was often promised an introduction by a much regarded friend, and well-known local naturalist (Mr. Clement Jackson, of Looe, Cornwall), and I wish that my uninformed remarks on the salmon peel may elicit from him, or any other ichthyologist, some information on the subject.

Referring to Mr. Jackson, I deem it due to his memory to state (what Mr. Couch could probably corroborate) that as early as 1840, and for some years previously, he had made himself acquainted with the principle of the aquarium: how a judicious admixture of plants and animals will keep each other in health, the plants feeding on the carbonic acid gas, evolved by the animals; the health of the animals kept up by the oxygen given off by the plants. Mr. Jackson was a chemist in theory and practice, an experimentalist, and a close observer of nature.

Quite young when I was first privileged with his friendship, my interest and delight in the results of

his close and accurate observations were indescribable. His little shop was an omnium gatherum and not the least interesting portion of its furniture were the odd-looking tubs, jars, and bottles in which were placed the plants and animals whose natural habits he desired, as far as possible, to observe. I well remember his assertion that the pretty coralline, found in every pool on the Looe rocks, was a vegetable, and not an animal, and giving proof of the fact. Very retiring, he never paraded his knowledge, and he died some years since, or, he might have been induced to make some of his discoveries more public. An excellent taxidermist,

his valuable collection of stuffed birds was, I believe, his legacy to the museum at Truro. Among his "curiosities" was a "white blackbird." I have also seen a white rook, and one partly white, with some white varieties of other birds, usually of coloured plumage. I observe two of your correspondents refer to the grey phalerope. This bird was observed by one of my cousins (himself a naturalist), one cold winter, on a small pool close to the town, where we were then living, many miles inland. I was taken by him to see it, and it seemed quite undisturbed by the presence of spectators.

Our early home afforded an excellent field for ornithological pursuits. Moths and butterflies in almost endless variety were seen. Of the latter, I may mention (the rare Purple Emperor, Peacocks, Admirals, and Painted Ladies, and Fritillaries of many sorts-the Granville Fritillary, which is, I believe, very local, being abundant. We had also both the copper butterflies; the larger having now, 1 am told, almost forsaken England. We now find that some of the white varieties of butterfly we got there are very rare (my specimens were long since too dilapidated to be of any use), and white varieties of "clouded sulphur" and "clouded yellow" were not unknown to us. A privet hedge in our garden was frequented by the Privet Hawk moth, a sunny walk by the Humming-bird Sphinx, and more than one specimen of the Elephant and of the splendid "Death's-head" moth was captured. One of the latter, I remember, made a fearful noise while dying a sort of shriek, which horrified my mother, who was its murderer, and very tender-hearted.

While on the subject of moths, I may mention that a moss house in one of the gardens of our after-home, situated near a valley, was the resort of the Goat-sucker or Night-jar, and we often found the floor strewed with the wings of the Puss moth, Oak-egger, &c. Walking once on Kinver Edge, in Staffordshire, I came upon what I thought was a piece of wood covered with some peculiar lichen; but, stooping towards it, noticed the sparkle of a bright, bead-like eye, in which life was evident, and, bending nearer, there was a Goat-sucker, cowering so closely to the heathery ground, I thought he must be wounded. But no-before I could grasp him, up he flew, and was out of sight and reach in a moment. I well remember how hard my mother fought, during our childhood, against our dairywoman's prejudices as to this much-maligned bird. Some dishonest people had milked our cows in the field, and old "Becky" would have it that Goatsuckers, or else Hedgey-boars (the equally harmless English porcupine, or hedgehog), had sucked them. Cornish people hold the belief your correspondent mentions, i. e., that if you try to kill a snake, “it will not die till sundown;" they also give full credit to the healing powers of that handsome St. John's-wort, "Tutsan."

In the woods before referred to, we often found colonies of the great wood ant, with high conical nests, in part made, as your correspondent observes, of fir leaves, but also, apparently, of grass stalks, and the thin stems of small plants. We often saw winged ants of this specics near the nests, and though we watched the insects closely, I do not remember that either of us was stung by them at any time.

I am very unlearned as to spiders, for I must confess I have a silly but unconquerable antipathy to the whole race (unlike one of my brothers, who succeeded in so far taming some large spiders, as to get them to come to the edge of their webs, instead of hiding themselves at his appearance. The same brother was also a successful tamer of toads, of which he kept a large number). Despite my dislike to the race, I am bound to say I never saw such handsome spiders as were found in that neighbourhood-"Huge Zebras," more than one of which was not unlike a moderate-sized white strawberry, a large green spider, &c.

That spiders are capable of inflicting wounds on human beings I have had proof in my own person. I slept, one hot night, in what is called a turn-up bed; and, tossing restlessly about, my right hand got up into the corner of the bed's head: I felt a kind of prick in my forefinger, and a sharp pain shot up my arm, and next morning the finger was sore and slightly festered; and where it had struck the corner was a common black spider, crushed and dead. Some of your young readers may be amused at hearing, in connection with "Spider Gossip," that a cousin of mine, an engineer, who was superintending the erection of some saw-mills in South America, shot one of the large hairy spiders which there devour small birds; the English workmen being afraid to pass beneath its web lest it should drop on them, and the creature being out of ordinary reach.

The botany of the neighbourhood of our early home was also most interesting; but I need not say that many flowers and ferns seem almost peculiar to the slaty and granitic soil of north and west Cornwall. The delicate little Cornish money-wort, with its small whitish flowers, we greatly prized; and obtained from many a moist and shady place. Like Mrs. Howitt, we had a little garden exclusively for wild flowers, to which every pretty or interesting plant we could obtain was transplanted with as much of the original soil as we could convey; and much happy labour have I spent in securing shade for one and sunshine for another, &c. &c., at the same time. Only once since I left that neighbourhood have I seen that beautiful fungus the Carmine Peziza. It grew, year after year, on a time-worn elder tree in one of our fields, and the rich scarlet of its little cups was visible from some distance. A. C. P.

ZOOLOGY.

FLYING FISH.-At page 161, there is a quotation from that excellent naturalist, Mr. George Bennett, on the flying fish, in which he maintains the commonly received notion that its aërial movement is not a true flight, but merely a single leap, wholly dependent on the original impulse given in the water, and therefore incapable of augmentation in force, or change in direction, while in the air. In this opinion, though backed by so great an authority as Alexander Humboldt, I am persuaded he is in error. More than twenty years ago, in a voyage to Jamaica, I set myself to examine with great care this very point, as I had, in former voyages, seen what had appeared to me a distinct motion of the pectoral fins. The result fully confirmed my scepticism of the common statement, as will be seen by the following extracts from my journal.*

"November 20, 1844.-Many flying fishes appeared a silvery species with clear wings, of middling size; the kind commonly seen in the Atlantic-probably Exocatus volitans. I now feel certain that these fishes have power to change their direction when in the air; more than one which I saw to-day turned aside at nearly a right angle.

"November 22.-Flying fishes leap every few minutes. Several made courses distinctly angular; and some, I am quite sure, rose and sunk in undulations. To confirm my own observation, I requested a gentleman on board to notice this point; and he was quite certain of both these facts.

"November 24.-I observed a flying fish, after flying a very short distance, suddenly turn downward, abruptly and perpendicularly, as if alarmed, and enter the water. The action exactly resembled that of a bird.

"November 25.-Several times I have observed in the flight of these fishes, when near the ship, an occasional fluttering of the pectorals. In general, these wing-like fins appear motionless; but at the moment of rising to avoid the crest of a wave, there is a slight but rapid vibration of these organs distinctly perceptible.

"November 29.-I noticed a flying fish curve its course, so as to describe more than half a circle."

Surely these observations prove that the aërial course of the flying fish is a true flight, increased, directed, and terminated at will, by the action of the pectorals, exactly as is the flight of a bird by the action of its wings.-P. H. Gosse, F.R.S., Torquay.

I hope it is not hypercritical to add that a statement in the next quotation is somewhat incautiously expressed. The terrible irritation produced by touching the dependent appendages of the Portu

* Nat. Sojourn in Jamaica, pp. 9-11.

guese Man-of-war, is caused by the emission from them, and the entrance into the human skin, of multitudes of those wonderful stinging weapons the barbed wires (ecthorea) of nettling cells (cnida), which are found abundantly in our own sea anemones and jelly fishes. The injection of a poisonous fluid is rather a plausible inference than a matter of sensible observation. (For a detailed account of these remarkable organs, I may refer to my "British Sea-anemones, Introduction,", pp. xxix. to xl.)P. H. G.

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"HATS OFF."-Having been greatly amused by the accounts given in SCIENCE-GOSSIP of. the dislikes evinced by various animals to different colours and articles of dress, I think an account of poor "Brutus's " peculiar fancies may not be uninteresting. The Brutus I allude to was a dog-the Brutus mentioned by his fond master (the Hon. Grantley F. Berkeley) in many of his well-known works. I came down into the drawing-room one day at Winleton, dressed in my hat and cloth bernous; we were going to the river side to see Mr. Berkeley fish, when Brutus, who lay on the rug, got up and looked at me. He neither growled nor grumbled-simply looked such a look! I can not describe it; but it frightened me, fond as I am of dogs-much as I liked Brutus; and I cried out in mortal fear, "Oh! what is the matter with Brutus?" His master looked up, and immediately spoke to the dog, who resumed his place. "He does not approve of your hat." He shows his taste, thought I; for an uglier felt never sat on woman's head; but it looked like rain, and I did not want to spoil my bonnet. "He is not partial to cloaks," added Mr. Berkeley; "a gentleman called here last week, and Brutus nearly tore his Inverness off his shoulders. He dislikes blue: my butcher is his abomination. The poor man has tried to conciliate him by bringing him pieces of meat, but in vain; his blue frock is odious in Brutus's eyes, and it is useless to try and deceive him by placing another over it; the fellow has done that. Brutus on one occasion tumbled butcher, tray, and all over in the road; and legs of mutton, &c., &c., flew about charmingly. I believe the butcher used the then empty tray as a shield." I was far from feeling at ease with Brutus during our walk, and I caught him stealing suspicious glances at my offending head-covering. His master's commands prevented his taking the matter into his own paws, but he looked "Hats off!" very plainly.— Helen.

AN ORIGINAL MODE OF GATHERING FRUIT.I have in my garden a pear tree, the fruit of which though small, is of a remarkably sweet and delicate flavour. As the crop ripened last summer, I looked for the usual quantity of windfalls; but, strange

to say, in spite of an abundant produce and rather high winds, scarcely a single pear rewarded my daily search. I of course suspected that some thieving neighbour anticipated me, and I determined to bring my friend to account. With this object in view, I one morning hid myself behind the hedge which skirts the orchard. There was a west wind blowing, and I amused myself with watching the luscious little pears as they dropped from the boughs and fell with a "thud" on the soft earth below. An hour passed away, and I began to wonder whether the thief would make his appearance after all, when my attention was drawn to the movements of a hedgehog, which crawled out of the hedge on the opposite side of the orchard, and trotted towards the pear tree with its peculiar shuffling gait. I remained perfectly still, with my eye upon the little animal, more for the sake of amusement than with any idea of the important part it was about to play in the robbery of my pears. I thus became witness of the following curious scene. After snuffling among the fallen fruit for a short time, the hedgehog took one up in its mouth by the stalk, carried it a few yards, and laid it carefully down; it then returned, seized another, and laid it by the first one. This was repeated until no less than sixteen pears were lying close together, or rather heaped upon each other. Satisfied, I suppose, with the amount, and conscious that he had collected as many as he could conveniently carry at one trip, the animal spread out its prickles to their widest possible extent, deliberately threw itself on the heap of pears, and rolled from one side to the other, until the whole of the fruit was transfixed, and then calmly walked off with its ill-gotten booty to the place from whence it had issued, where I could plainly see some little ones awaiting her return, and no doubt anticipating a juicy breakfast. I made no attempt to disturb the clever little thief, grateful to it for giving me the opportunity of witnessing a fact which has long been treated as a fable-viz., the power and ability of the hedgehog to carry off food on its back.-B. L.

[From Die Gartenlaube, a weekly periodical published at Leipzig, 1865.]

SWALLOWS

HYBERNATING. - Though residing some three thousand miles away from the dear old country, I have been a subscriber to your invaluable SCIENCE-GOSSIP since its commencement; and feeling much interest in your articles on the hibernation of swallows, would feel obliged by the insertion of the following in the columns of your ever-welcome monthly. An intelligent German, a native of Dantzig, employed in our office as an engraver, informs me that it is a matter of very common occurrence for the fishermen who ply their vocation during the winter season in the reedy and marshy pools

and sluggish streams around the city of Dantzig, to dredge up in their nets from beneath the ice numerous swallows in a torpid condition. He tells me that in shape they somewhat resemble the handle of a shoemaker's awl; the head is turned downwards, and the beak pressed into the feathers of the breast so as to be scarcely discernible; the body is stiff and hard, as if frozen, and their weight much lighter than when in a normal state. He remembers an instance in particular of one being given to his mother in this condition by a fisherman; she placed it in tepid water, when it revived, but soon afterwards died. On one occasion he saw six taken up from the stream, clinging by their claws to a broken reed, from which it appears they had not detached themselves on immersion, as in most cases they do. In autumn they assemble in large flocks, and alight on the reeds overhanging the streams, when their weight accumulates to an amount sufficient to bear down the reeds into the water, the claws appear to relax their grasp, and as the birds disappear beneath the surface, the reeds again rise, and resume their perpendicular position. Professor Lieber, of Elbing, near Dantzig, has for a number of years paid great attention to the habits of these birds, and would, I have no doubt (if still living), feel great pleasure in communicating any facts relating to them. From the description of the bird, I should presume it to be the common house swallow (Hirundo rustica), but am not certain.-G. W., Philadelphia, U.S.

THE PEARL FISHERIES.-Perhaps my fellowreaders of SCIENCE-GOSSIP would like to hear a little concerning a work which is throwing light upon a branch of Natural History, whilst its immediate object is to fill the purse. I refer to the investigations now being carried on with regard to the Pearl-fishery of Ceylon. There is no necessity for me to give an account of the fishery. That has been done frequently already. But before giving some extracts from a private letter, kindly placed at my disposal, perhaps it will be as well if I give a short account of the circumstances which called for the inquiry. I need not say that the pearl-oyster is no oyster at all, but belongs to the genus Avicula of class Conchifera of the Mollusca. It rejoices in the name Avicula margaritifera, or Meleagrina margar, Lamarck, or Mytilus margar, Linnæus. It is well known of what importance and what a fertile source of revenue the Pearl-fishery is to Ceylon. For some years the fishery gradually lost its lucrativeness, until at length the oysters disappeared from the beds. In consequence of this Mr. E. W. H. Holdsworth was sent out as naturalist to see what could be done. The chief questions which required solution would seem to be-first, what were the causes which led to the disappearance of the oysters-secondly, what could be done to obtain

oysters on the beds again-thirdly, what rules must in future be observed in fishing so as to prevent a similar misfortune. It is evident that this last question will involve a thorough investigation of the habits of the pearl-oyster. It is, therefore, interesting to the lover of Natural History to know that there is a prospect of something being done in this direction. Mr. Holdsworth went out in October, 1865, and after more than a year of difficulties and disappointments, he is able to say in a letter, dated March, 1867, which I am allowed to quote,-"The pearl-oysters have again made their appearance on the Ceylon banks. Two patches of ground-one half a mile square, the other a mile square-are covered with young oysters, as thickly as they can well be placed. They are, however, very young, ranging from about two weeks to two months old, being much younger than any of the present fishery officials have seen; so that there is a prospect of ascertaining the rate of growth, if these young creatures remain on the banks. To know the age of an oyster when it is found, is one of the most important matters in connection with the fishery, since the oyster should be taken just when it arrives at maturity, and just before it dies, which it is said to do when six or seven years old.”—Robert Blight.

GRASSHOPPER WARBLER (Salicaria locustella).— This is an exceedingly shy bird. On its arrival here in the spring, it generally takes up its abode in some thick stunted hedge, which affords it both food and concealment. Seldom moving from the spot so selected, in the evening its peculiar note may be heard, which has a fine ventriloquial effect; not often is it heard in the daytime, although I have seen it in the early morning perched on the topmost spray of the hedge, with quivering wings, warbling forth its notes. The nest is very artfully concealed a few inches above the ground, by the side of a ditch, and is composed of dried grass. The eggs are generally six or seven in number. Should the female be disturbed while sitting, she generally drops down among the grass, and shuffles along under it like a mouse for some distance. During the period of incubation the song of the male is very seldom heard; but as soon as the young is fledged, he is again harmonious, and continues so until their departure from our shores.-Thos. H. Hedworth, Dunston.

VORACITY OF THE TROUT.-Whilst fishing in one of the Hampshire trout-streams on the 28th of June, I caught several trout, one of which on being opened the following day was found to contain another, which it must have swallowed at least twenty-four hours previously. The length and weight of the fish are as follows:-The large one: extreme length 15 in., weight 1 lb.; the smaller trout: length 7 in., weight 3 oz.-H. T.

PUSSY'S FOSTER-PUP.-A small Scotch terrier had six pups; the three prettiest were left with the mother, the others were condemned to be drowned. One of the servants begged leave to bring up one of the ugly pups by hand, as a kitchen dog. Leave was granted, and the servant placed the pup in a basket belonging to a cat who had been deprived of her kittens a fortnight before. When the servant returned, she found that the cat was in the basket, and had taken possession of the pup, which she would not allow any one to touch. She took entire charge of the pup, and brought it up, with a very little assistance from the servant, who occasionally administered a little milk with a spoon. For some time the pup was very tiny. Puss used to wash it, carry it about, and in every way treat it as a child of her own. After he was six months old, the dog grew considerably; he is now about six years old, very ugly but very intelligent. In some ways he seems to have the nature of his foster-mother; he hates getting his feet wet or dirty, dislikes dogs, but is friendly to cats, and washes his face like a cat, by passing his paw behind his ear and over his face.-Abigail.

SNAKE AND MOUSE.-I was out lately on one of my expeditions in the neighbourhood of Sheffield, and captured a very fine specimen of the ringsnake; he was 35 inches long, very plump, and full of life and animation. I put the reptile into a wooden box with a glass front, so that myself and friends might the better watch his movements. We could get him to eat nothing. Toads and frogs, bread and milk, meat raw and boiled: but nothing would he touch. At length we put a live mouse into his box; but the mouse ate the snakeat any rate he ate four or five inches of his tail. Lest it should be said that I was mistaken, I took two or three friends with me to witness the novelty for themselves. The mouse was two days in the box before he commenced his repast. He first bit the tail off, I think; for when we observed his mouseship dining, he was munching the loose end with great gusto; so that instead of the snake eating the mouse, the mouse commenced devouring the snake.-J. Potts.

DIED OF A SHREW.-In one instance (during the severe winter of 1859-60) a kingfisher was seen to pitch down close to the bank of the river, and rising again fly off to a rail close by. The person watching this bird saw it attempt to swallow something, when it suddenly fell backwards, and was picked up dead. On being examined afterwards it was found to have bolted a little shrew mouse, which unusual morsel had evidently caused its untimely end, and showed how hard pressed these poor birds must have been for their natural food.-Stevenson's Birds of Norfolk.