mr. a. Patterson’s natural history notes from Yarmouth. 397 
On July 14th a 14-inch Mackerel was saved for me by a friendly 
lisli merchant ; the back of it was entirely blue, save in a certain 
light, when faint fine lines, like “watered silk,” were just discernible. 
On July 21st, with Mr. Eldred, I had a row round Breydon. 
We saw two or three Curlew-Sandpipers, two Spoonbills, a Caspian 
Tern, and a Sandwich Tern. The latter was resting on a stranded 
basket ; and the Caspian fishing, plunging into the water with the 
dash and vigour of an Osprey. 
In the end of July two Avocets were here. One was shut on 
the North River. They were exceedingly tame and unsuspicious. 
August 18th. A score Lesser Terns noisily flying about on 
Breydon. They kept in the neighbourhood several days. 
On August 24th a Green Sandpiper ( Totanus ochmpus) passed 
me. For some unaccountable reason this species has become 
singularly scarce here during recent years. 
A few little Stints in neighbourhood early in September. 
The principal event of the month of September was the decided 
immigration of Redstarts, Lied Flycatchers, and Siskins, the latter 
not having been so numerous for several years. A birdcatcher, 
observing a great number of Siskins feeding on an old lettuce bed, 
borrowed a caged Siskin, and set his nets early next morning, 
liy breakfast he had netted 90, and 140 by eleven o’clock. He 
sold them at one shilling a male bird, and twopence each the hens. 
On September 22nd a young Crested Grebe was slightly wing- 
tipped on Breydon, but did not appear to be otherwise injured. 
I placed it in an aviary with some Gulls, which it most viciously 
pecked at on their approach. The bird pushed itself along on its 
breast in a peculiarly awkward fashion ; hitching itself forward in 
an undulating manner by its widely spread legs. With me it 
remained very spiteful, and pinched and pecked my hands in 
a most vicious manner. It did not take very kindly to food although 
the end of a strip of fish, once in its mandibles, it took good care 
to gobble up the remainder. I sent it to the Zoological Society’s 
Gardens, where it died on arrival. 
On October 1 6tli a live Storm Petrel was brought in by 
a Herring-fisher. Observing a group of fishermen highly interested 
in the contents of a paper pastry bog I went to look, when the 
head of the poor little Petrel popped out. I purchased it, and took 
it home, where it soon learnt to peck at soft Herring-milts hung 
