ii8 
NATURE NOTES 
“ So, close in poplar shades, her children gone, 
The mother nightingale laments alone. 
Whose nest some prying churl had found, and thence 
By stealth, convey’d th’ unfeather’d innocence ; 
But she supplies the night with mournful strains. 
And melancholy music fills the plains.” 
The melancholy of the nightingale’s song is a matter of temperament in the 
hearer, and the Latin language, and that of poets, children and cockneys, is some- 
what regardless of sex, as in the cases of the robin and the wren, cat and dog, 
&c. A London servant-girl thought a hare was “ the gentleman of the rabbit ” ! 
—Ed. 
A Brave Blackbird. — One morning last spring I heard a great disturb- 
ance among the birds in our garden, so I went to the window to see what was 
the matter. The window looks out on to a thick ivy hedge that forms a very 
popular nesting-place for the birds in our neighbourhood. I saw a large cat 
climbing a tree close to the hedge, much to the distress of the birds, who were 
fluttering about uttering shrill cries of distress. As she approached the nest of a 
blackbird, the cock bird flew down and pecked her head with such vigour that 
she promptly retreated to the bottom of the tree : after pursuing her round the 
side of the house, alternately pecking her and pulling her bushy tail, he returned 
to the top of the hedge still scolding violently. Soon the cat appeared round the 
other side of the house, but as soon as he perceived her, he recommenced the 
attack with such energy that she simply fled, and did not stop until she had 
cleared the wall and taken refuge in the next garden. lie then perched himself 
on the top of a clothes-prop so that he could view the whole neighbourhood, in 
case of another attack being attempted by the enemy, and answered the frightened 
cries of his mate with the most reassuring song of victory I have ever heard. 
Later on in the day I examined their nest, and found it contained two fine young 
birds, nearly fledged. 
Noiver View, Dorking, Surrey. Y. A. PlTTS. 
“Slimness” in the Sparrow. — While lunching in Kew Gardens on 
May 5, I noticed that most of the sugar-basins on the tea-tables were covered 
with saucers. Two, however, were not so, and, having discovered this fact, 
sparrow after sparrow “made a flying march” and “commandeered” as large 
lumps of sugar as they could carry. — [Ed. N'.N.'\ 
Migrants. — For about eleven years we have noticed three or four couples of 
shieldrakes arriving every April, and one year we found two of their eggs in a 
rabbit burrow (where these birds habitually lay their eggs) : these were addled. 
Probably they had been disturbed in this burrow, as they generally lay from 
ten to twelve eggs. Naturally, we should expect to see the number of our 
visitors increase,* but possibly they may cease to frequent these sea-side links, 
where every effort is made to exterminate the rabbits. The shieldrakes are very 
handsome birds, and may be seen sometimes on the shore, or walking and feed- 
ing on the links in the very early morning. This year they arrived about April 
15. The cuckoo was late this year, and was only seen on April 29 and heard the 
following day. To-day (May 6) it has never ceased its cry since early morning. 
The first swarm of winged ants invaded the garden on April 26. 
IVest Kirby, Cheshire. M. Sybilla Dalglish. 
Humming-bird Hawk-Motb (Macroglossa slellatarum). — In the January 
number of Nature Notes I recorded the late appearance of Macroglossa 
stellalarum (November 18). I am now able to write of this moth’s unusually 
early visit amongst the wallflowers in the bright sunshine, poising over them and 
extracting the honey with its long proboscis. Its appearance in May is, I think, 
most unusual, as they are rarely seen till our gardens are gay with petunias, asters, 
stocks, and phloxes, to all of which flowers they are very partial. Might it not 
have been the very same moth let out of our window that November day, which 
had hibernated in .some sheltered corner near, again revived by the warm May 
