NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 
177 
usual. I had forgotten about the bird of the previous year until the maid said 
one morning that there was a very strange cuckoo in the garden, it seemed as if 
it had a bad cold. I went out of doors to listen and instantly recognised my 
hoarse friend of the year before. I am awaiting the arrival of the cuckoos this 
spring with interest. 
Weit Monkton, Somerset. Julian K. Brinkley. 
Hen killing Hawk. — A friend of mine who lives at Frithville, near Boston, 
Lincolnshire, had a hen with her brood in a coop a short distance from the house. 
One day recently, hearing a commotion among the chickens, she ran out in time 
to see the hen beating and pecking a hawk to death. I was shown the hawk, 
which, I am sorry to say, proved to be a lemale kestrel. The victorious hen is 
a light-coloured ordinary barn-door fowl. Fortunately the coop had been raised 
far enough to allow her to get out. 
Herne Hill, S.E., VV. COCKSEDGE. 
August 10, 1901. 
The Hours at which the Nightingale Sings. — I have been trying to 
make out how many hours out of the twenty-four the nightingale continues 
singing. My first observations were made on May 15. At 8.30 p.m. the one 
that I had singled out was singing. At 10.15 p.m. it and all the neighbouring 
nightingales were silent. At 10.40 my bird and others had begun. At 12 (mid- 
night) my bird and others singing. 1.30 to 1.50 a.m. (May 16) all silent. At 
3 a.m. a Babel of music in which, I think, all the nightingales took part. A 
large number of blackbirds, thrushes, n.bins, several cuckoos and larks were 
singing, each without a moment’s pause, if the cuckoos are excepted. No 
doubt many small birds whose notes were hardly distinguishable took part in the 
chorus. At 3.45 the songs of all the species just mentioned were represented, and 
wrens, garden warblers and whitethroats in addition. At 3.55 the nightingales 
were still vigorous, and the chiffchatf, wdlow-wren and chaffinch became audible. 
5.10 a.m., weather cold and chill, only one or two nightingales singing and not 
my bird. Even those that made music left intervals of ten minutes or so. At 
6.18 my nightingale woke up, sang one strain and subsided. At 6.30 other 
nightingales began to sing more vigorously. At 7.45 all the nightingales silent. 
At 7.56 one begins feebly. 9.30, all silent but for one solitary snatch of song. 
1 1.20 to 11.40, sunny and warm, but only a stray note of nightingale’s song is to be 
heard. 1.20 p.m., occasional singing. 4.30 p.m., my bird singing occasionally, 
others silent. 7 p.m., nightingales singing vigorously. 
I have supplemented these observations to some extent and have called in the 
help of the college watchman. He reports that on one warm night (May 20-21) 
the nightingales sang from 10 p.m. all through the night without intermission. 
One rainy night (May 30-31) all the nigh ingales were silent till l a.m. when one 
began. All seem to take a rest between 9 and lo p.m., breaking into song 
sometimes a little before 10, but often not till some time after. On the nights of 
June 3, 4, 5, 6, singing was general among the nightingales from 10 p.m. till 
dawn, but on June 6 and 7 only one bird was heard between 12 (midnight) and 
I a.m. 
To sum up the results of these imperfect observations, all the nightingales 
take a rest between 9 and 10 p.m. before making their great effort. Sometimes 
they take a rest in the middle of the night, but by no means always. In the day 
nightingales are generally to be heard at any time, but not all sing at once. 
Haileybury. F. W. Headley. 
Toads. — As to toads being venomous, Shakespeare appears to have been 
right. In “Chambers’s Encyclopcedia ” I find this, “Though toads cannot spit 
poison, the secretion of their skin glands contains a poisonous substance (phrynin) 
acrid enough to be felt on tongue or eyes, and probably conducive to the safety 
of toads.” “A really venomous toad is found in the Argentine 
Republic” (see “ Hudson’s Naturalist in La Plata,” 1892). This question, how- 
ever, seems to have been not long ago an open one. In Wood’s “ Popular 
Natural History” we were told how harmless and useful toads are, and how 
Mr. Wood’s children had large tame toads which they carried in their hands 
