SELBORNIANA. 
137 
white herons (Herodiai). To obtain them these birds are being shot by thousands 
while they bring food to their nestlings, who are left to die of starvation. I do 
not know of a more horrible and brutal exhibition of wanton destruction than I 
witnessed here [in Florida].” — W. E. D. Scott, in the Atii, 1887, p. 214. 
“ Birds were killed and the plumes taken from the head, body and breast, and the 
carcase thrown to the buzzards.” — p. 140. “The old Frenchman, A. 
Chevallier, came in with a boat and deliberately killed off the old birds as they 
were feeding their young, obtaining about one hundred and eighty of them. The 
young, about three weeks old, to the number of several hundred at least, and 
utterly unable to care for themselves in any way, were simply left to starve to 
death in the nests, or to be eaten by raccoons and buzzards.” — Ibid, p. 218.] 
Scilly Notes.— The seals around our coasts are so few that it seems a pity 
any should be destroyed, and .Selbornians will hear with regret that they are not 
better protected at .Scilly. .Several were shot last winter by so-called sportsmen 
for the sake of one skin. The lessee-proprietor of the Scilly Islands is said to 
pay 5s. each for every skin brought to him. If this be true, the payment is 
probably made purposely insufficient to tempt the fishermen to take the trouble to 
capture them in the remoter isles, where the few which remain are to be found. 
It is difficult to imagine that Mr. Dorrien-Smith wishes the seals to be exterminated. 
Lovers of birds who have not visited Scilly will find the uninhabited isles 
delightful. Happily they are not so attractive to the few cheap trippers who 
venture across the sea as St. Mary’s and Tresco : hence the birds are comparatively 
unmolested. Wild birds’ eggs' will, however, continue to reach a profitable 
market until public opinion discourages their use. Members of the Selborne 
Society, when travelling, might with advantage provide themselves with a few 
copies of the “ Notes” for distribution, and also of the Wild Bird Protection Act. 
Birds breed in these isles in thousands, but they are not too numerous, and 
w'ere they less protected our coasts would not be so pleasantly enlivened by 
their presence during the remainder of the year. From April to August Anneto is 
the home of the puffin, Manx shearwater, and razorbill, and the island is honey- 
combed with their holes. It is a sin to walk about therein !May and June, for 
each step may crush an egg or imprison a young bird. The burrows are commonly 
two or three feet in length. One feels like an intruder on ground sacred to them, 
and the scolding gulls and screaming oyster-catchers do their best to drive you 
away. The holes are mostly made with their feet, the sharp beak cutting the 
roots of the sea-pink. On Gorregar. the kittiwake makes its seaweedy nest in the 
interstices of the steep rocks, and a pretty spectacle the birds make. On Rose- 
vean and Rosevear the cormorants, on Menewithen the black-backed gull, on 
Rugged Island other gulls and the graceful .\rctic tern, which may be seen in 
pairs playfully soaring together, breed in some of the lesser islets. 
St. Mary's. THOMAS Pole. 
Hackney Marsh. — All those of our readers who take an interest in the 
momentous question of open spaces will be glad to hear that, thanks to the action 
of the Open Spaces Committee of the London County Council, Hackney Marsh is 
in a fair way towards being purchased for the best purpose it could be, to form 
what in fact it has a long time been — a noble recreation ground for dwellers in north- 
east London. Certain financial matters with regard to its acquisition are not yet 
settled, but it is abundantly worth the price to be paid for it, .i^75,ooo. Hackney 
Marsh is never so much seen at its best as on a bright day in May or early June, 
when the broad green expanse has become yellow and white with buttercups and 
daisies. The fresh green foliage of the willows, and the wavelets of the river Lea 
dancing in the sunlight, all enhance the cheerfulness of the scene, and combine to 
make it well worthy of being the subject of the landscape painter’s canvas. .So 
suddenly and completely docs the view change from town to country, when seen 
from the train after it emerges from the tunnel at Clapton, that one would imagine 
the boundaries of London had been once and for ever crossed in this direction. 
Such, indeed, was the case twenty years ago, but the cheap daily fares of an 
enterprising railway company have turned the once quaint old country towns of 
Stratford, of Low Leyton, and of Walthamstow, that lie on the other side of the 
marsh land, into mushroom cities. They are now well-nigh united, and comprise 
n population of over 150,000. Here are rows upon rows of crowded streets, as 
