4 THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 



of which I was at that time very familiar. But beyond 

 these I saw no birds save a Serin (Serinus liortulanus) , which 

 was singing in the station garden of Partinico — a garden 

 gay with geranium hedges and vermilion pomegranate flowers. 

 I stayed three or four days in Sicily, but the summer heat was 

 scorching up the vegetation, and the birds had chiefly retired 

 to the mountains, leaving but few species to share the sun 

 with the numerous lizards, true gluttons in the matter of 

 sunshine. But the Serins, ever lovers of hot gardens, were 

 still singing, and besides the numerous Sardinian "Warblers 

 (S. melanocephala) I heard, as well as saw, the Blackcap (S. 

 atricapilla). These, with plenty of Spanish Sparrows, were 

 all the species I could find, even in the beautiful gardens and 

 shrubberies of the Villa Bellemonte, &c, &c. The male 

 Spanish Sparrow in summer dress is a really handsome bird. 

 The white cheeks are very conspicuous, even as the birds fly 

 past in a flock. I spent the 21st in Naples, and it seemed to 

 me, in my haste, that there could not be a better proof of the 

 mean sordidness of this city than the absence of Swifts and 

 the Swallow kind. Indeed, I do not remember seeing a bird of 

 any description. 



The next day I moved to Borne early in the morning. 

 The Nightingale sings regularly later in the season in the south 

 than one would expect. At, or near, Taoni, as the train 

 moved slowly through a fertile country, with the maize just in 

 bloom and vines trailing in garlands between the trees, the 

 song of this bird burst from some bushes with startling 

 loudness. Swallows were wheeling about the little stations. 

 Just after we came in sight of the Eternal City we passed a 

 long-rained aqueduct frequented by Jackdaws and Kestrels, 

 and there had been Crested Larks about the little hay-fields 

 just previously. Soon after this we were in Borne, and heard 

 Swifts screaming. I always fancy that Swifts love a fine open 

 city, and I was not surprised to find Borne swarming with 

 them. I remembered saying four years before, that Berne 

 seemed to me like what I should expect Borne to be ; and I 

 found that Borne was loved by Swifts as they loved Berne, and 

 indeed, if anything, fuller of them. I scrutinised dozens at 

 close quarters as they went in and out under the eaves of a 



