io8 
NATURE NOTES 
femme, que j’ai tant, tant, tant, tant, battue ; qui s'il m’en 
donne une autre, je ne la batterais plus, plus, plus, plus, qu’un 
petit, qu’un petit, qu’un petit.” Here we get a quick succession 
of liquid notes, tumbling over each other, to be followed by a 
pause of some seconds ; then there comes a plaintive, piping 
whistle which puzzles the astonished listener. The willow wren 
may be heard keeping company, and “chiming” with its fellows 
thus: “ Till tell-true, junk, jink, pit, pet, pip, pip, pip, pee-oo.” 
The yellow-hammer cries aloud, and perhaps not always in vain, 
for “ A little, little bit of bread and no-o-oo chee-eese.” The 
blackcap or mock nightingale (a silly name) has bold rich notes 
somewhat like those of the robin. The whinchat of the furze 
bush makes a sound as if two stones were being struck together, 
“ Oo-tac, oo-tac, tac, tac, tac.” Its next of kin, the resident 
stonechat, says wi-chick, wi-chuck. “Who? he? ’tis he! ’tis 
he ! ” may well represent the song of the grey wagtail. The 
cleverest imitation is probably Macgillivray’s translation of the 
notes of the skylark: “Up in a lift go we, tehee, te-hee, 
te-hee ! There’s no cobbler on the airth can mak’ a shoe to 
me ! why so ? why so ? why so ? Because my heel is as long 
as my toe.” Such are some of the melodies which may be heard 
in suburban districts, north or south ; nay, even in places which 
are scarcely to be called suburban. Passing by Wandsworth 
Gaol, there is forced upon the mind the bitter truth, charged 
with grimmest irony, that the prisoners may night and morning 
hear therefrom the unimpeded songs of no contemptible portion 
of the British avifauna. 
Battersea, S.IU. Walter Johnson. 
A YEAR ON THE WAR-PATH. 
big, handsome fellow, equipped from head to 
)live-black armour. 
vdrophilus, the favourite vegetarian,” said our 
is he introduced the new arrival to us, where- 
upon we expressed pleasure at meeting once more a member 
of this most highly respectable family. 
“ He shall have a home worthy of the irreproachable name 
he bears,” we remarked, as we dropped him into our favourite 
aquarium, and then an indefinable something in his manner of 
swimming caused a momentary suspicion to dart through our 
mind, and made us ask, “ You are sure he is Hydrophilus ? ” 
“Oh, yes,” was the confident answer, which dispelled all 
doubt; “ Look at his smooth coat of mail! That carnivorous 
relative of his of whom you are thinking, has ribbed armour.” 
The summer previous, we had brought from a pond in the 
country two small beetles of the family of Hydvophilida:, and had 
found them most interesting. They were perfectly harmless, and 
being strict vegetarians, they lived in quiet harmony with the 
other creatures in the aquarium. Then their undersides, silvery 
E was a 
foot in ( 
“ H . 
friend, ; 
