NATURAL HISTORY NOTES. 241 
it may be that I have missed hearing them, and they may possibly be in this 
locality also. 
Mydrim. A. A. B. 
I can endorse Mr. J. U. Voss’s statement as to this bird being heard in Wales, 
north and south, near the sea. My native place, “ Bryn y Mor,” was exactly 
opposite Gower, within a mile of the Tower of Llanelly, and the cuckoo came 
every year to some plantations close to the house. Our Welsh servants were 
superstitious, and used to say, “ We shall keep our place another year,” when 
they heard the bird’s note ; for they believed that wherever you might be the 
first time in the season when you heard the cuckoo, there you would certainly be, 
if living, next year. I also heard it at a relative’s place much nearer the sea, at 
“ Killymaenllwyd,” which is close to the sea shore, and opposite the “ Worms 
Head,” a rock at the extremity of the Gower peninsula, in North Wales, when I 
lived near Beaumaris, close to the sea shore. Not far from Pen Mon in the 
island of Anglesea, the cuckoo was a yearly visitor to some of the adjoining 
woods. I used to hear its note continually, though I never saw the bird there as 
I saw it in South Wales, or as I see it here, but we are eighteen miles from any 
sea. The birds fly about the garden, and perch on different trees, uttering the 
same rather tiresome note ; for after a time it becomes tiresome, especially if one 
has a clever mimic of a grey parrot, who has the “fatal facility” of copying 
most sounds and voices, and who mocks the cuckoo so correctly when out in his 
cage under the trees in summer, that I believe he deceives the birds themselves. 
Berry Grove House, Liss, Hants. Helen E. Watney. 
Vipers Swallowing tlieir Young. — There is a warm controversy raging 
in the Field as to the alleged swallowing of young vipers by their dam, for pro- 
tection in time of danger, and many letters are appearing on the subject. Mr. 
Tegetmeier and the “ Naturalist ” editor, if they be different persons, are incredu- 
lous, but profess themselves willing to be convinced. A fortnight ago I wrote to 
say that I thought it worth while to put on record a piece of evidence which seemed 
particularly valuable, because the witness had never heard a word on the subject, 
and did not know that anyone had ever asserted the fact, and told his tale only as 
a curious experience of his own. This, I added, was the Jesuit, Fr. de Smedt, long 
a missioner among the Red Indians, and he told the story to me. Riding one 
day across the prairie, he came to a shallow hollow, at the bottom of which was 
a large rattlesnake and a number of young ones playing round it. As he advanced 
his horse made a noise, whereupon the youngsters scuttled off to their mother, 
who opened her mouth and they disappeared down her throat. Much inter- 
ested, he reined up and remained perfectly still, and presently first one and then 
another of the little ones hopped out of the mouth, until they were all again in 
sight. Then he struck his boot smartly with his riding whip, and again they 
vanished as before. He repeated the experiment several times, and always with 
the same result. 
This letter I wrote, as I have said, a fortnight ago, but no notice whatever has 
been taken of it in the two issues which have since appeared, though other letters 
have been printed on the subject. Can it be the terrible word “ Jesuit ” which 
has frightened the editor? If so, the odium theologicum has penetrated to regions 
more remote than I could have imagined. Perhaps the anecdote may be useful 
for Nature Notes. 
John Gerard. 
Sparrows Again ! — Those moralists who are in the habit of holding up 
Nature to us as a model, in works like The Busy Bee, The Industrious Ant, &c., 
must surely find it expedient to ignore the domestic sparrow, for of all birds he 
seems to me the most immoral and the most successful. It needs nothing less than 
the ingenuity of tnan to circumvent his cunning tricks and unholy practices. If 
anyone would accuse me of undue warmth, let him first hear how our sparrows 
not only committed a series of shameless robberies, but very nearly succeeded in 
giving our entire household blood-poisoning this summer. 
In the spring we were much pleased to find that the martins were building 
under our eaves. There were five pairs of them busily at work, and the nests 
were nearly finished, when I left home for a few days. On the morning after my 
return I noticed a long wisp of hay hanging from one of the nests, and peering 
