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arrival as the liarbingers of spring, and regret their depar- 

 ture as the first signs of approaching winter ; but whence 

 they come or whither they go is, for the most part, mere 

 guess work. It is true that we no longer believe in the 

 old fable — which perplexed Gilbert White when he wrote 

 his charming " History of Selborne " — that the swallows 

 burrowed and "slumbered" during the winter months. But 

 we have yet much to learn on this fascinating subject of 

 migration of birds, and the man who brings our knowledge 

 upon this point " up to date " will make an enduring name 

 for himself. 



Did you ever see a blackbird attack a cat ? I have been 

 greatly interested in contests of this kind, which go on at 

 various periods of the day before the window at wdiich I 

 am writing. There is a blackbird's nest, with young in 

 it, in one tree, and in another hollow elm-pollard — not six 

 feet away from the nestlings — our Man Friday's cat has 

 a kitten. Cats do not, as a rule, breed in the holes of 

 trees, as you know. But this cat is not as other cats are ; 

 she is in no sense domesticated. There is no male cat, 

 that we know of, within a very long distance — but that 

 is another story. Our cat kittened in an old disused barn, 

 to begin with, and her numerous progeny w^ere no sooner 

 born than she began to provide for their sustenance. A 

 couple of leverets were amongst the tit-bits which she 

 brought home, and every hedge-row was robbed of its 

 callow broods and sitting wild birds. I am a long time 

 getting to her fights vdih the cock blackbird, but that vrill 

 come in presently. Well, those kittens were, with one 

 exception, killed in the Lnterests of sport. The mother 

 cat considered the matter of her bereavement carefully over 

 for a whole day. and at night she took prompt action. The 

 surviving kitten disappeared, and this is wheire the black- 

 bird comes in. He besieged the hiding place of the old 

 cat and her baby, puffing his feathers out like a broody 

 hen, raising his back hair, and using the imost violent 

 language of which a blackbird is capable. Eventually 

 Mrs. Tabby resented this disturbance, and came out of her 

 hole. The bird swooped round her in circles, as she slowly 



