KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 

149 

with fresh. The cause I could not ascertain, pos- 
sibly some discharge from the old fish, and from 
the number of young being too great for the con- 
fined space. The plant has grown freely ; and 
being confined to one side by the stone, forms a 
good canopy over the fish ; butits leaves are very 
much eaten by the molluscs, which swim freely 
about at the surface, shell downwards, with the 
foot hollowed, and guided by an undulating 
motion of its edges, exhibiting a very curious 
specimen of locomotion. They crawl along the 
under surface of the floating leaves, and are so 
nearly balanced in the water, that I have observed 
one turning back on the end of a long slender 
fibre, which scarcely bent under its weight; and 
at the bottom and sides they crawl] about like the 
common snail. The Ancylus Fluviatilis also 
shifts its position freely, adhering indifferently 
either to the glass sides, or to the stones at the 
bottom. They deposit masses of spawn attached 
to the leaves, which are probably devoured by the 
fish soon after being hatched, as comparatively 
very few young snails are observed; and I have 
often seen the old fish take some minute object 
from the leaves, and from the mud at the bottom. 
Among the Miscellaneous Notices, are two 
contributions fiom the pen of G. R. Twinn, 
Esq., Bawburgh Hill, near Norwich. The 
first astounds us; for he tells us that he has 
heard the Blue Tit (Parus ceruleus) sing so 
like a robin, that the difference was only 
distinguishable by seeing the vocalist. We 
have kept company with ‘‘ Master Tom” 
from boyhood, and this is the first time we 
ever heard of his newly-acquired powers. 
Let us record the curiosity pro bono :— 
During the continuance of the snow in February 
and March, I had quite a family of birds that 
daily visited my window for food, which was as 
regularly furnished as they were punctual in 
coming for it. Blackbirds, Thrushes, Robins, 
Sparrows, and Tits all fed in peace and joy; the 
Robins only would enter and perch on our break- 
fast-table. The others, however, were very tame ; 
and from a Blackbird we had many a note of 
thanks ; but whilst the Robins gladly and merrily 
sang in our warm study, the Blue Tit replied; 
and had I not distinctly seen and heard the 
songster, I should have stated it was a Robin 
singing. But I can add further testimony. We 
at present have a Blue Tit’s nest in our garden in 
a Laurestinus, and regularly the male Tit sits, 
after his feeding the brood, on the top of the 
shrub, and sings away very gaily. I think you 
will observe that the notes of this bird are much 
harsher and shorter than those of the Robin, and 
are devoid of that gradual cadence with which the 
Redbreast often ends his lays, or rather sinks in 
melody, that he may, like the Nightingale, break 
out in richer music. 
The second extract, from the same hand, 
has reference to thenesting of the NUTHATCH; 
a lovely fellow, whose praises we have often 
before sung. We saw a nest of these pretty 
creatures in a hollow tree, during a recent 
visit in Hampshire ; and we were quite charmed 
to watch the affectionate movements of the 


parents whilst sedulously tending their infant 
brood. Secure and happy, their fearless 
independence and indifference to the curiosity 
of lookers-on were ridiculously diverting. 
Some comments of ours on their little per- 
formances, will be found at p. 344, Vol. Jil. 
We talked to them; and got such a funny, 
squeaking reply! Did their papa and mamma 
resent this prying curiosity on our part ? 
Oh, no! They sat by the while, and seemed 
to take it as a personal honor! But let us 
listen to Mr. T.’s account of the nesting of 
the Nuthatch (Sitta Europea). We see that 
he too, like most of us lovers of birds, has 
suffered by those diabolical fiends, the bird- 
trappers. Of all robbers, these are the most 
atrocious :— 
In a small but deep hollow of a shattered tree, 
about twenty feet from the ground, a pair of these 
birds selected their retreat, and had intended 
rearing a brood, had not my robbery prevented 
them. I had a very fine opportunity of observing 
their peculiar mode of nesting. At the bottom of 
the hole, about thirty small pieces of bark, (from 
the beech tree), were carelessly laid, and, without 
any other aid to promote heat and assist the bird 
in the period of incubation, this was the sole 
means, apparently, to be employed. An egg was 
deposited on them, a layer of bark over it, and so 
the work proceeded regularly, till the seventh egg 
was deposited, and then over all the bird began 
carefully to sit, and heat the pile of bark. I ob- 
served no variation in the daily appearance of the 
nest, to warrant any supposition that the eggs in 
regularity were removed from top to bottom, nor 
can I well fancy such a process without damage 
to the eggs in such a nest, formed so indifferently, 
and without any soft materials.. Now I have no 
doubt, from the depth of this hole, that the birds 
had with their ‘‘hammer-bills” bored to a depth 
(exceeding the natural) of nearly nine inches ; and 
at the base of the tree many—very many—chips 
of wood were readily discernible. I have for several 
mornings scarcely missed observing, from four 
o'clock till long after five, a pair seated on a 
poplar tree; and as I read in my room, or ramble 
round our field, I hear their hammering, as though 
to them it were a merriment andajoy. They 
are called ‘“‘Creepers’” here; and very active 
birds they are in scouring trees for insects, and 
digging for vermin. I have met with instances 
of the nests of these birds in the side of a trunk 
of a tree, and where the bark and wood have, on 
removal, left white traces that might betray 
their locality, Thave seen a thin coating of dirt 
brushed over to imitate the natural appearance of 
the bark, and delude the eye. The under plu- 
mage of these birds beneath the wings is, in many 
specimens, very rich—of a deep claret-color. I 
have never met with eggs entirely white. On 
the contrary, all have an abundance of red spots 
on a clear white ground; and not small ones 
neither, but certainly not to be called blotches. 
By ALBERT 
THE Story or Mont BuLaAne. 
SMITH. . Bogue. 
If any one were asked, “ Have you been 
to see Albert Smith’s popular entertain- 

