EXTRACTS FROM CORRESPONDENCE. 219 



heath and long grass, and studded thickly with Whin bushes in full 

 bloom. There goes a Kingfisher from the steep side of a pit on our right; 

 see how the rays of the setting sun glance upon its beautiful plumage! 

 most likely it has young ones deep in the gravelly bank. Whilst fishing 

 a short time ago in a quiet secluded pond fringed by bushes, one of 

 these beautiful little birds perched on the end of my rod, and there took 

 its station for a short time; one involuntary tremble of the hand and it 

 was gone like a flash of light. 



The sun has descended below the horizon, and it is already almost dark 

 in the recesses of the wood, but still we linger to enjoy the softness and 

 beauty of the summer night, and to listen to the luscious notes of the 

 Nightingale; all the other singing birds are silenced except the Whitethroat, 

 which utters an occasional strain as we disturb it in sauntering past; but 

 the Wood Owl startles us with its 'hoo-hoo,' and the Nightjar glides 

 past, hawking for the moth and chafiPer; hark! there is its long- continued 

 ^chirr-r-r-r,' how it sounds through the stillness of the night! and the 

 distant baying, too, of the keeper's dogs! And now we have reached the 

 field again, and hear the Land-rail and Partridge calling. Bats, too, are 

 abroad, and the moonbeams falling on the branches of the old trees, call 

 forth strange forms, and confused masses of light and shade. What music 

 there is in the ripple of the falling spring. What! our friends not gone 

 yet! Like ourselves, the beauty of the night has made them forget their 

 homes; but they seem fatigued, and will not stay long behind us. 



Farewell dear old Refley! long may thy woods resound with the merry 

 laugh of health and youth; long may the old tell of the days when they 

 were young, as they smoke the pipe of peace in thy shades; and long 

 may thy generous owner live, and enjoy those blessings he has so freely 

 placed within the reach of others! 



Lynn, July Z\st., 1856. 



EXTRACTS FROM 

 CORRESPONDENCE WITH A BROTHER NATURALIST. 



BY FREDERICK M. BURTON, ESQ. 

 C Continued from page \2b.) 



How interesting the numerous tribes of insects are this hot weather, 

 you meet with them in every possible locality. Last week I saw a thin 

 column of millions of black gnats on the top of the broad tower of 

 Lincoln Cathedral; they formed a sort of cone in shape, and kept just in 

 the centre. It seems strange that they should choose such an elevation 

 to congregate in. I remember once, while the Great Northern Railway 

 was forming, going down a shaft, and along the bore of a half-formed 



