5022 _ Tue ZooLtocist—Auvcust, 1876. 
merely force of habit, inherited or acquired—a sum of tendencies operating 
unknowingly and uniformly upon the same recurring circumstances, devoid 
of conscious design, lacking recognized prevision ; totally inadequate to the 
requirements of the first special emergency. What bird, possessed of only 
such a faculty as this, could build a two-story nest to get rid of an 
objectionable deposit in the original single-story fabric? It argues as 
intelligent a design as was ever indicated in the creation of a building by a 
human being. No question of inherited tendency enters here; and if it 
did, the issue would only be set back a step, no nearer determination, for 
there must have been an original double nest, the result of an original idea. 
Nor is this wonderful forethought very rarely exhibited; considering what 
proportion the double nests discovered bear to the ordinary ones brought to 
our notice, among the millions annually constructed, we can easily believe 
that the ingenious device is in fact a frequent resort of the birds plagued by 
the cow-bunting. Aud how can we sufficiently admire the perseverance 
and energy of a bird which, having once safely shut up the terrible egg in 
her cellar, and then having found another one violating her premises, 
forthwith built a third story? She deserved better of fate than that her 
house should at last be despoiled by a naturalist. This was a summer 
yellowbird, to whom the price of passing thus into history must have 
seemed hard.” 
Cowbirds are occasionally to be found in our aviaries, and even 
here they comport themselves strangely. It is most amusing to 
watch one when he is about to attempt any singing; he ruffles up 
his feathers and swells himself out as large as possible, and appears 
to be in labour of something very important, until at last one dismal 
croak is emitted, and the bird subsides until another effort of the 
same kind is felt to be required. 
Some of our readers will doubtless recollect a controversy which 
raged a few years ago in the ‘ Field’ respecting the habits of the 
water ouzel. It was then asserted by some who had never observed 
the bird very closely that its common feat of walking under the 
water was clearly impossible; that the structure of the bird, the 
laws of specific gravity, &c., &e., all forbade such a thing, and 
that it was all either a fable or an optical illusion. It is therefore 
interesting to find that the American dipper (Cinclus Mewicanus) 
is also guilty of the same impossible conduct. The description 
given of its habits by Dr. Coues would apply ¢otidem verbis to any 
water ouzel frequenting our English moorland streams :— 
“Tt is an odd little bird, both in its notes and manners, and attracts the 
attention of the tourist and miner, as well as the naturalist, from the 
