2318 The Zoologist — October, 1870. 



sunset they are driven back, and waddle up the ladder by which they 

 gain access to their roosting place." — P. 86. 



The Chinaman is fond of fat ducks, and ducks are fond of fat frogs, 

 and for the same reason — both frogs and ducks are wholesome 

 esculents. Towards evening the frogs are in full activity and full 

 song; they leap down the banks of the dykes by thousands, and 

 plunging in the water commence their serenade ; the men and boys 

 attracted by the music, or rather apprised by the music of their 

 whereabouts, prepare the bamboo, the string, the crooked pin, and 

 the worm, and angle as it would seem very successfully for the musical 

 Batrachia. Mr. Adams tells us he often fell in with an old man 

 bending under the weight of a hamper of frogs, the produce of his 

 evening's fishing. In like manner do the pig-tailed inhabitants of the 

 " Flowery Land" disport themselves in the mud in search of the fresh- 

 water crab with the woollen hand {Eriocheir japonicus) : these are a 

 much approved dainty with the Chinese, and are tied on a string and 

 exposed for sale in the market-place in every town. As we become 

 better acquainted with the " Celestial " inhabitants of the " Flowery 

 Land," as proximity removes that impression of vague grandeur which 

 distance always imparts, we begin to perceive that the Chinaman is 

 very human, although we may still continue to admire his skill iu 

 horticulture, his wonderful organ of constructiveness, and his indomit- 

 able persistency. The chrysalids have led me to the ducks, the ducks 

 to the frogs, and the frogs to the Chinaman ; and thus I have been 

 induced to improve the occasion by endeavouring to reconcile my 

 fellow countrymen to their position in a land that is not "flowery," 

 and conditions that cannot be called " celestial." Let me now glance 

 at the mina-bird, an indweller of the east, well known to us by 

 name. 



"As for the mina-bird, he is everywhere: as you pass through the 

 settlement, a loud cheery note salutes your ear, and on looking about 

 to thank the feathered vocalist, you see, perched upon the cornice of 

 the tallest house, a niina, solitary, but apparently on good terms with 

 himself, piping at intervals in the fullness of his joy. While the old 

 women are silting in groups before their doors, busy with their 

 spinning and their cotton-pods, the mina-birds dispute the crumbs 

 with the ducks and the fowls. Among the buffaloes in the marsh by 

 the river's brink, familiar and noisy, they gather in little Hocks, 

 perching on the heads and backs of their flat-horned, mud-covered 



