OCCASIONAL NOTES. 129 
one of the serrated and hooked bill of the Smew—of course, reversed or 
turned upside diwn. There was a kind of angular notch on the back, near 
the tail, as if a large piece had been at some time bitten out, but now 
quite healed and covered with skin similar to other parts of the body. 
This malformation of the mouth does not seem to have interfered with the 
animal’s feeding, as it was in particularly good condition. A cast of the 
head has been taken and the skull preserved by Mr. Hearder, of Plymouth.— 
Joun GatcomBe (Durnford Street, Stonehouse, Plymouth). 
Tse Revivat or Fatconry.—I have read with much interest Captain 
Dugmore’s article on “ The Revival of Falconry,” which appeared in your 
last number. May I say a word or two thereon? In the first place, I thank 
him for his kind and considerate mention of myself. It is not always that 
faleoners remember my early struggles in the cause, and I should be sorry 
to think that my name had quite died out among them. I have been com- 
pelled to give up the sport, both this year and last, but have hardly yet lost 
my interest in it. For seventeen or eighteen years I flew grouse on a small 
moor in this manor, with a success to which my many friends will bear 
witness. In all that time but one year was missed. But changes come 
with years; and the present tenant of this extensive shooting (the acting, 
rather than the nominal, tenant, for there are two partners) has contrived 
to shut out me and mine from every, even the most trifling, privilege which 
he found us enjoying. He is a town man, of course; not a country man. 
Had it not been for this I should have seen last year, and probably for the 
last time, a falcon or two of my own training fly grouse. Were I a vindictive 
man I should glory in the certain knowledge that this person has not the 
smallest chance of preserving game upon the manor—uot if he covered it 
with keepers. Well, sir, you see that my little existence as a working 
falconer is over. Let me turn for a moment to others. Captain Dugmore 
says that he knows no one in England, save Mr. Hancock, who can stutt a 
hawk properly. Iam more fortunate. I know—and have known for thirty 
years—an amateur, even I think superior to Mr. Hancock in this matter, 
—my dear friend William Brodrick, the life and spirit of that excellent 
book, of which he is more than half author, “Falconry in the British 
Isles.” And in speaking of old falconers Mr. Brodrick should never be 
forgotten: I can only say for myself that 1 am altogether indebted to him 
for the rudiments of the art, and that without his early kindness I should 
probably never have been able to write a word on Falconry, or to fly a single 
grouse. With regard to the Club itself, many well-known falconers object 
to it, on the ground that flying hawks in the Alexaudra Park is a burlesque 
on the oldest and most romantic of our sports. I confess I do not agree 
with them; but | object to certain portions of my own essay ou the matter, 
S) 
