NOTES FROM NORTH LINCOLNSHIRE. 37d 
northern variety known as Cinclus melanogaster. On May 27th 
I saw the Turtle Dove in the next parish; and on the 31st, when 
riding across the wolds, I had an excellent view of the Great 
Spotted Woodpecker, a species by no means so scarce in North 
Lincolnshire as is generally supposed, haunting the large wood- 
lands and old timbered parks. Very large flocks of Brent Geese 
and Widgeon were observed every day off the mouth of the Tees 
during March; they had all left before the 28th. From a notice 
in ‘ The Field,’ it appears the former lingered on the Essex coast 
till late in May. ‘The only ducks seen by me when cruising on 
the south and south-east coasts from the Solent to tlhe Humber, 
in the second week in June, were Common Scoters, the “black 
ducks” of the fishermen. ‘Terns were seen on the Tees on the 
19th April; numerously on May 7th. We took no eggs of the 
Carrion Crow till after April 14th. My boys took several nests 
during the Easter holidays, and a young birdnesting friend 
secured 127 eggs. I mention this to show how numerous the 
species is in North Lincolnshire, where, as a rule, game is not 
preserved. 
I have paid especial attention to the Starlings this season—if 
possible, to substantiate the fact of the separation of the young 
and old during migration. After the young leave the nest they 
assemble in the marshes in flocks of greater or less extent—from 
twenty to thirty to several hundreds. Occasionally I have detected 
an old bird or two; but they appear as often without as accom- 
panied by adults. As a rule, the old birds remain about their old 
haunts, and, in the majority of cases, nest a second time. During 
this period the young of the first broods certainly collect together. 
My. Giitke states that hundreds of thousands of young Starlings 
cross Heligoland in June to the end of July, and like numbers of 
old birds during October and November, and later; that young 
and old are thus strictly divided, and migrate at quite distinct 
periods. 
During the last week in July Whimbrel passed overhead, and 
I also saw a few small flocks in the marshes; with flocks of from 
ten to twelve young Curlews. The plaintive whistle of the Ring 
Dotterel came from the fallow land—a sure indication of summer 
being far advanced. May I never have to write of a more miserable 
and ungenial one 
