1-^4 Zoology. 



to some purpose. I had before heard of a hare which, being closely pursued 

 to the brink of a river, turned exactly on the brink, and escaped, whilst 

 the dogs, who could not stop themselves, were precipitated into the water, to 

 the edification of the clever fugitive. If these notes are worth preserving, 

 you know what to do with them. As a friend to such ingenious creatures 

 as these anecdotes prove hares to be, I wish I had power to abolish the 

 babyish amusement of hare-hunting. It is cruelty without a sufficient 

 extenuation. Whilst there are foxes, why cannot our sportsmen be 

 content to harry them? — W. B. Clarke. East Bergholt, Suffolk, Sept. 16. 

 1830. 



The Song of the Missel Thrush. — Sir, I trouble you with the following 

 remarks, unimportant as they may seem in themselves, under the idea that 

 your correspondent J. B. (Vol. II. p.p. 123.) may be glad to have the testi- 

 mony of other observers in confirmation of his own opinion respecting the song 

 of the missel thrush (Turdus viscivorus). The bird is undoubtedly " to be 

 classed among the number of our songsters," and, when he sings his best, is far 

 from a contemptible musician. Its ordinary song is frequently to be heard 

 in the winter and early spring. I am surprised, therefore, to find the 

 excellent author of The Journal of a Naturalist stating that " it seems to 

 have no song, no voice, but a harsh predictive note." Bewick says that it 

 " begins to sing early, often on the turn of the year, in blowing stormy 

 weather; whence, in some places, it is called the * storm cock.'" But 

 besides its ordinary song, which I conceive to be what is described by 

 J. B. as " consisting of only three or four notes, which it continues to re- 

 peat over and over again, for perhaps half an hour together, with scarcely 

 any variation, pausing for a second between every stave, till the ear is almost 

 wearied with its monotony," — besides this song, which we are in the habit 

 of hearing every year, the bird occasionally favours us with another and 

 far superior performance, as I ascertained in the following manner: — Some 

 years ago, in the spring, my attention was arrested day after day by the 

 song of a bird near my residence, which I supposed to be that of a black- 

 bird, as it more nearly resembled the note of that bird than any other. 

 Though like the blackbird's, however, the song was more continuous, and 

 had obviously something very peculiar and unusual belonging to it. The 

 bird attracted notice in the family, and was known among us by the appel- 

 lation of " the strange blackbird." Whether we considered it as a travelled 

 individual, endowed with accomplishments above its fellows, I will not take 

 upon me, at ^his distance of time, to say ; but it occurred to me, I recollect, 

 that in all probability it was a blackbird that had escaped from a cage, and, 

 having been reared in confinement, had acquired, under this artificial edu- 

 cation, something more than its usual notes. Wishing to ascertain the 

 point, I resolved, if possible, to get a sight of the bird itself; which, to my 

 surprise, turned out to be, not the blackbird, as I had supposed, but the 

 missel thrush. If I recollect right, the song continued to be heard about 

 the premises till the summer was far advanced. 



It seems to be generally supposed that this species has acquired the 

 name of " storm thrush," or " storm cock," from the circumstance of its 

 singing in showery blowing weather, as stated by Bewick, in the passage 

 above cited, and other writers.* But may not the appellation have also 

 been given in reference to the quarrelsome, contentious, stormy disposition 

 of the bird ? " In severe weather it approaches our plantations and 

 shrubberies, to feed on the berry of the mistletoe, the ivy, or the scarlet 

 fruit of the holly or the yew ; and should the redwing or the fieldfare pre- 



* " The approach of a sleety snow-storm, following a deceitful gleam in 

 spring, is always announced to us by the loud untuneful voice of the missel 

 thrush (T'urdus viscivorus), as it takes its stand on some tall tree, like an 

 enchanter calling up the gale." {Journal of a Katuralisty p. 247. Ist edit.) 



