OCTOBER. 275 



On two or three vermin poles we saw a good many Stoats and 

 Weasels, and coming round a bend in the wood on to the top of a 

 commanding hill had a splendid view of Strawopolis. 



We had a great treat in the boathouse on the estate we visited, 

 and in the glass cases all round the far too damp walls noticed the 

 following Natural History specimens: Snowy Owl, Laughing Jackass, 

 Black Swan, Pochard, Roach (largest one weighing 31bs. 6ozs)., 

 Badger (weight 281bs.), Goldeneye Duck, a pair of Otters, Peregrine 

 Falcon, a pair of Golden Pheasants (shot wild in a neighbouring 

 wood), several albino varieties of the English Pheasant, several Pike 

 (the two largest 38]bs. and 321bs. respectively), a pair of Red-legged 

 Partridges, Golden Eagle, Mute Swan, pair of Eider Ducks, and a 

 Heron. Here was quite a little museum, and the collection interested 

 us not a little. None of the specimens were labelled, and I had the 

 pleasure of identifying some of them for the first time. Most of the 

 British birds and fish and animals were obtained in the neighbour- 

 hood (the Pochard breeds there), but the Snowy Owl, the Jackass, 

 and other foreigners were obtained elsewhere. 



Glancing in the water for a sight of a good fish or two we spotted 

 a fine drove of Roach, each, I should say, over a pound in weight 

 their red tails and fins being very prominent. We also sighted a long, 

 thin Pike, looking very sickly, and evidently on his last legs, though 

 that expression, to say the least of it, is rather a curious one to use 

 in connection with a fish, but it is none the less understandable. If 

 in condition it should have weighed several pounds: it probably 

 would not have turned the scale at three. 



I was told to-day by the keeper's homely wife that the Rooks 

 are building in the high trees adjoining the lodge. Also, that if one 

 does not shoot the young Rooks the parent birds will forsake the 

 neighbourhood. This appears to me to be very far-fetched, but I 

 record it for what it may be worth. The Bullfinch kept by the keeper 

 will "talk" to nobody else but him, and with the remark that he tells 

 us that in the early Autumn of last year (1899) some hundreds of 

 Swallows and Martins died on his and the neighbouring lodge 

 doorsteps owing (apparently) to sudden cold weather, our notes for 

 to-day are brought to a conclusion. 



15th. Brilliant sunshine; between 70 and 80 degrees in the sun. 

 Lark singing, Hedge Sparrows and Robin in vocal competition in the 

 garden. Still piercing cold and blustering winds. 



The Butterfly notes for the closing three months of the year may 



