believe, the largest of our various bats, measuring from the tip of one wing to that of the other from fifteen to sixteen inches. I have kept them alive for some time, but they are very offensive.

Some Insects utter sounds, such as the deathwatch (Ptinus fatidicus), a sort of ticking noise, and the house-cricket. A young queen Bee, generally the evening before she quits the hive with a swarm, utters a very plaintive cry. I can have little doubt that it is produced from the throat, and not by the action of the wings, as I have frequently taken one of those stingless bees, we find in the autumn on sun-flowers and other plants, and on preventing any action whatever of the wings, I have heard it utter the same mournful and distressing cry as that of the queen bee. The FieldCricket makes a cry which every lover of nature must delight to hear," filling his mind," as Mr. White observes, with a train of "Summer ideas of. every thing that is rural, verdurous, and joyous." But it is time to conclude this desultory notice of the tones of animals,* which I will do by referring to the call of the Corn-crake, one of those sounds, which may be heard on a still sum

* The Tench is the only fresh-water fish which I have ever heard produce a sound. It is said to be made through its bronchial opercula. The sound is so distressing to hear, that I have quitted my hold of a tench when taking a hook out of its mouth from its unpleasantness, and the surprise it occasioned me.

mer's evening, and which is very pleasing to me, although it has been considered harsh * and discordant.

Poor bird, though harsh thy note, I love it well,

It tells of summer eves, mild and serene.

*The Latin name of this bird, CREX, (whence our

Crake,")

is taken from the sound of its call. The French name the bird, "Le Roi des Cailles," the King of the Quails. It is most plentiful on the southern coasts of Kent, Sussex and Hampshire. Its call is usually heard late in the evening.

It was no small matter of satisfaction to me, to find that you were not displeased with my little methodus of birds.

GILBERT WHITE.

I LIKE the little faunas which are now and then made by gentlemen residing in the country, of the birds and plants to be found in their immediate neighbourhood. They are always interesting to a naturalist, and it is to be regretted that more of them are not kept by those who have the time and opportunity of doing so. I have occasionally one of these lists sent me, accompanied by observations of the habits of birds, and I receive it with much pleasure. Indeed I may say with Mr. White, that my fondness for natural history, "has led me to the acquaintance of many gentlemen, whose intelligent communications have afforded me much pleasing information; and that the pursuit of it has contributed to the health of my body, and the cheerfulness and peace of my mind."

The following remarks are extracted from some communications made to me by an "out-door naturalist," to which I have added a list of the birds in his immediate neighbourhood. They will not, I am sure, prove unacceptable to some of my readers. My correspondent resides in Somersetshire.

"In the winter, Magpies assemble to roost together in large flocks. In a wood near me, there were hundreds, I might almost say thousands, that came there regularly every evening, flying in from all directions. They formerly frequented an orchard on the opposite side of the valley to which the wood is situated, but having been shot at, they deserted it for the wood. The next evening not one magpie came to the orchard, but all went simultaneously to the wood, as if they had previously agreed amongst themselves to do so. In moonlight nights they might be seen clustering together on the trees."

This gregarious propensity of magpies I have witnessed, especially in open countries. In the enclosed parts of England, they are more commonly seen in pairs or in families, like the jay and titmouse. In cold frosty weather, magpies will cluster together on trees, as if to keep each other warm, and then the masses appear like large black lumps. This circumstance was confirmed to me by the late Mr. Allan Cunningham, whose loss I deplore in common with many of his friends and acquaintance. My correspondent continues:

"I have seen a curious instance of birds of very different habits and nature, such as the sparrowhawk, jackdaw, green wookpecker, nuthatch and wren; all building, and having either eggs or young ones at the same time, either on or in the

same tree. There is an old oak tree near a place at which I was residing, the heart of which is completely decayed. On the topmost branches a pair of sparrow-hawks had made them a nest, which, at the time I examined it, contained four eggs. In a hollow of the tree, near the top, was a jackdaw's nest, with five young ones. A little lower, a woodpecker had another, with five eggs in it. Still lower, was a nuthatch's nest, with seven young ones. And near the foot of the tree, in one of the crevices of the bark, which was overgrown with ivy, a pair of wrens had made another nest, in which were several eggs. These birds seemed to live in perfect harmony, as I watched them frequently.

"I have been so fortunate as to find a redwing's nest, the only instance I have heard of in this country. Only one bird appeared to attend the nest, which contained but one egg. This solitary bird had, probably, from some cause or other, been unable to attend its congeners in their annual flight from this country. It was afterwards shot, and is now, with the egg, in my possession.

"I have lately had some curious varieties of birds sent to me, viz. a white thrush, a greenfinch quite white, except a slight green blush on the breast and wings; a sparrow of a bright dun colour, and another with white wings and tail. A man, also, at Bath, caught a white bullfinch."