‘ 7. 
‘¢ Pretty little mocking-bird, thy form I see, 
Swinging to the breeze on the mangrove tree.” 
The mangroves have their own singing bird, and a 
splendid little bird it is, the sylvicola petechi, the 
Canary warbler ; its five notes are as brilliant as its 
plumage. It trills a shrill repetition of them, with 
no variation ; and jerks about familiarly among the 
blossoms of the gamboge mallowsinthe town. Be- 
side the Canary warbler I have only seen of small 
birds a couple of flame-coloured ruticillas (setophaga 
ruticilla,) a very rich-tinted bird, whose plumage of 
intermingled black and orange, as I would say, if 
oranges were always as ruddy as they are in this and 
the succeeding month, when they are luscious ripe, 
whose rich fiery plumage, never fails to arrest at- 
tention. They are on their back migration from 
Equinoctial America to Canada. They always loiter 
in our sea-side thickets for some two or three weeks: 
‘These are all the small birds I have seen, save and 
except one loggerhead tyrant, tyrannus caudifascia- 
tus. I would add, I have not observed a cat in 
Port Royal. : 
I have seen in Kingston several of our own, and 
several birds of the neighbouring continent so recon- 
ciled to a dependence on the bounty of man, that it 
might be mistaken for domestication if it was not, 
_ that breeding in captivity made no part of the expe- 
riment. No birds more readily submit to human 
dependence than the parrot tribe,—but no instance 
of a parrot breeding in this tame life, has been known 
yet. Ihave seen the noddy-tern megalopterus sto- 
