3002 THE ZooLtoGist—APRIL, 1872. 
they can plague with impunity from those which do not yield to their 
persecutions. When several different species are to be seen living 
together, and each has to look sharp after his food, one finds numberless 
opportunities of observing how they seek to over-reach one another. The 
laughing gulls, in the Hamburg Zoological Gardens, which are allowed their 
liberty, keep a regular watch over the diving ducks, and often rob them of 
their booty as soon as they rise to the surface. They narrowly observe those 
that dive, awaiting the instant of their return to the surface, at which 
moment if the duck has succeeded in catching a fish, they immediately dash 
down and try to snatch it away: this they often succeed in doing, for the 
diving ducks are in the habit always of swallowing their food above water ; 
and, in spite of repeated diving to gain time, they are generally unsuccessful 
in their attempts to save their dinner. Coots are as active and quite as 
impudent as the gulls. I have seen them snatch food out of the very beaks 
of the swans, which the latter had just brought up from the bottom. These 
examples which I have quoted are by no means uncommon. Other 
instances have been observed which are still more remarkable. A friend of 
mine, a clergyman of undoubted veracity, told me the following charming 
anecdote of a tame magpie. ‘This bird had its abode among the hens and 
chickens in the yard, though under rather disagreeable circumstances, owing 
to its being chased at meal-times by the fowls, &c. In these squabbles the 
magpie was generally attacked by two hens at once, and, getting the worst 
of it, had to stand by and see his enemies feed,—unable to partake of the 
feast himself. This state of things produced a bitter feeling, which soon 
gave the spur to the natural talent for artfulness and slyness, so inherent 
in the magpie, and led the bird to substitute cunning for the strength he 
did not possess. His tactics were these:—he now began the quarrel 
himself while the fowls were feeding; these, angered at the interruption of 
their meal, immediately left their food to chastise the intruder, who, however, 
screaming and aggravating, kept hopping away just in front of the enraged 
enemy, till he had at last enticed them some distance from their food; then, 
suddenly taking wing, back flies Mr. Magpie, snaps up a fine piece of 
potato, which he bears off in triumph, and hides up in his store-house under 
a barrel. This game is carried on until sufficient provision has been 
accumulated.’ The goose, so often spoken of as stupid, sometimes gives 
proof of a character quite the reverse. A gander had taken up his abode in 
a wheat-field; at first the bird fed with the greatest nonchalance, until 
discovered and repeatedly driven out; after which he only sought the field 
and fed when no one was near. Did any person approach he immediately 
squatted close to the ground without uttering a sound, and even allowed the 
whole flock of village geese to pass by without betraying himself.”—P. 182. 
I believe the following account of a domesticated crane has never 
ee 
