202 NOTES ON NATURAL HISTORY. 



in the heavens. Opposite to the moon, about the same distance east of 

 the meridian, the planet Mars (now to be seen to great advantage) was 

 shining in all his ruddy brilliancy. Not the rustling or moving of a leaf 

 visible, or breath of air sensible to the feeling; and I cannot help thinking 

 the silence would have been awful but from the note of the Corn-crake. 

 I shall never forget how solitude was enlivened that night by the 

 unceasing cry of that bird. 



The village of Kelston joins Weston on the western side. At the 

 junction of the parishes the River Avon makes a bend to the south, and 

 with a bold sweep round west and north, forms a very pretty peninsula 

 with elevated grounds, upon which is a mansion, known as Kelston House, 

 surrounded by a beautiful park and richly diversified woods and plantations. 

 As there is no public road through the domain, the pedestrian who per- 

 severes in following the course of the Avon, will soon find his progress 

 obstructed, and must therefore content himself with as near an approach 

 as he can obtain, and listen to the chorus of the feathered inhabitants 

 of the beautiful groves, whose charming variety of tints are sufficient to 

 interest his attention. 



The weather with a few occasional exceptions has not hitherto been 

 favourable for loiterers, but I was so fortunate as to be at the place on 

 one of the few genial days, and whilst listening to the numerous songsters 

 hours passed away rapidly. Blackbirds and thrushes were answering each 

 other; Wood Pigeons were cooing; and the laughing note of the Woodpecker 

 chimed into the chorus. Larks, and many other birds, whose songs my 

 limited knowledge of Natural History did not enable me to recognise, 

 filled up the concert, in which we must not forget the Cuckoo — he was 

 in high note, and very busy flying from one tree to another. 



I have often been surprised, and am now quite offended, at the ex- 

 pression, so often repeated, of the note of this bird being monotonous. 

 On this occasion the sound was clear and musical, and chimed in har- 

 monious cadence with the wild natural performers around. The present is 

 the time when his note is the clearest according to the quaint old rhyme. 

 "In May, he sings all day. — In June, he alters his tune." When the 

 country people say he becomes hoarse because there are no eggs to suck, 



which clear his throat. 



(To be continued.) 



NOTES ON NATURAL HISTORY. 



in a letter to the rev. f. 0. morris. 

 Sir, 



I have lived in this colony for more than a quarter of a century, and 



during all that time I have been, in my small way, an observer Of the 



