NATURAL HISTORY NOTES, QUERIES, &c. 219 
Martins. — A few weeks ago I was taking a holiday rest on the sea-coast in 
Sussex. Among other places of interest I visited the village of Felpham, once 
the residence of the now almost forgotten poet Hayley ; he lies buried in the 
church, and there is a tablet on the chancel wall to his memory. That church 
is about half-a-mile from the sea. The morning was one of the finest in 
the recent splendid month of September, and about the middle of the month — 
17th. On approaching the church I was gratified by witnessing a sight such as 
I had never seen before. The church is a fine large structure for a village, and 
has one of those broad sloping roofs so very characteristic of many Sussex 
churches ; the roof of the south side of the nave and the south aisle is high-pitched 
and very broad, as it covers both nave and aisle in one. This broad roof was 
covered thickly with martins, as was also the roof of the chancel on the south 
side, and there were many on the north. There must have been hundreds of 
these little birds, preparing for their flight across the Channel. I was unable to 
remain to watch their further movements, and my one companion was also unable, 
and we, therefore, reluctantly left the birds without further observation. It would, 
however, be interesting to know whether any similar gathering was witnessed 
about the same time. 
Robert Simpson. 
“ Pother- wind.” — The whole of last autumn I spent in the beautiful vale of 
Harting, where the wild clematis grows in profusion, and had the opportunity of 
conversing with a number of old people. On one occasion I expressed my admira- 
tion of the trailing habit of the “Traveller’s Joy” to an old native, when he 
remarked, “ I don’t know what it be,” but after 1 had described the plant he ex- 
claimed, “Oh, we calls it pother-wind." As I have never met with this name 
before, others may not have heard it. 
John Fullwood. 
[We take this opportunity of reminding our readers that we shall be very glad 
to receive any local plant names for incorporation in the supplement to the Dic- 
tionary of English Plant Names, which is now in active preparation. Ed. N. N] 
Ducks iu Trees, etc. (pp. 169, 198). — The following is taken from 
“ Some Notes of a Naturalist in London,” printed in the Preston Chronicle about 
thirty-eight years ago, when the naturalist was eight years old, and written down 
for him by his mother — 
“ The ducks in Kensington Gardens build up in the trees. Last summer we 
observed one waddling along the grass, and after stopping some time, and looking 
about her very cautiously, she flew up into a horse chestnut tree, which has one 
large branch, about twelve feet from the ground, projecting horizontally a short 
distance before shooting upwards. On this platform Mrs. Dilldill had built her 
nest, and we spied her bright eyes peeping out at us, from a mass of leaves, grass, 
and down. The keepers said there were several nests about the Gardens, and 
that the eggs were often stolen. How the ducklings are got to the ground is a 
mystery yet to us.” 
I may add that the branch was blown down one stormy October years ago, 
and that the rest of the tree, almost dead, has been rooted up this summer. It 
was near the north-east side of middle broad walk. .Another duck built in a 
branch of an elm near the present fountains, long before that end of the Serpen- 
tine was Italianised at the expense of all the elms near it. 
The branch fell before the eggs were hatched, and it was very pitiful to watch 
the mother duck hunting about and looking everywhere for her eggs. She did 
not seem to understand that the smash of eggs, shells, and leaves at the foot of the 
tree could be her snug nest. 
E. S. N. 
The Muscovy Duck at Crowder House Farm, near .Sheffield (see Nature 
Notes, 1891, p. 79), has continued to make her nest in the ventilating niche of the 
barn, over the cart shed, about fifteen feet from the ground. August this year for 
the first time, we discovered how she brought the little ducklings to the ground ; 
as soon as they were hatched she flew down and called them. They immediately 
started on their perilous jourtiey. On reaching the lowest part of the roof of the 
shed they dropped on to the hard ground, and directly followed their mother to 
