NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 
213 
leaps at your flies for fun, as every angler knows, the birds that sing long after 
breeding season, when there is no rivalry among them for the possession of mates, 
such as the robin, the lark, the willow-warbler, which I heard only yesterday 
(September 1), the rabbits that come about and play in the cool of the evening, 
the birds, such as carrion crows, hawks, swifts, which I have seen sailing high in 
the air on a breezy, sunny summer afternoon quite listlessly, for hours, as if they 
were exulting in their existence and were glad to be alive, all these seem to show 
that animals have their hours of gladness, which I doubt whether they would if 
they were overcast with fear of pain and terror, as we should be if we were in 
their position. Let me give an instance of what sympathetic people would 
consider pain. I have often heard rabbits squeal when caught by dogs, and 
always thought it was a sign of the pain they felt. Once, however, I saw a 
rabbit coursed (a thing which, by the bye, I will not see again, for it is most cruel 
and unsportsmanlike), and the creature did not know where to go, for it was 
taken from its natural haunts, and while it was being coursed it squealed, 
evidently showing that it was frightened and not that it felt pain. We may 
therefore conclude that while a rabbit is in the fangs of a dog it is frightened 
and does not necessarily feel pain (for the short time it lasts, for it is soon dead) ; 
but while it is being hunted, as long as it knows where its hole is, or the 
bushes to hide in, it is not frightened. Another incidental proof of this is that 
I have often and often known rabbits refuse to go into a hole unless hard 
pressed, and this tends to show that the creature rather enjoys eluding the dog 
till he gets things made too hard for him, and then pops into his hole. This I 
have noticed again and again. 
May I cite one more instance. A few days ago, a man who had been wounded 
in action in Egypt told me that he never felt the slightest pain the whole time, 
not even when the bullet was being taken out. This seems truly incredible. 
Now if this is true in some cases with man, it is far more likely that the bird in 
the talons of a hawk, and the deer under the spring of the tiger, feels no pain at 
the sudden shock, especially when the nervous organisation of a wild animal is 
coarser and less sensitive through contact with open air and exposure to all sorts 
of wind and weather, as it undeniably is. The fact, however, remains that proof 
either way is most difficult, nay, almost impossible, and I cannot but recommend 
all who are interested in the matter to read Mr. Long’s book. 
Pen Moel, Chepstow , M. P. Price. 
September 2, 1903. 
33. A few Local Names. — Our rustics here are often intelligent observers 
and give me curious information, which if at times at variance with accepted 
facts, is almost always accompanied by some local belief or name that gives spice 
to what they say. 
Of weasels, clearly distinguished from stoats, they say there are two kinds, 
which seem to differ in size only. The larger are “weasels,” the smaller 
“ mousers.” In winter the stoat is a “ minifer.” Short-tailed field mice are 
“ moggies,” shrews “ rannies,” and dormice “sleepers.” 
Amongst birds the green woodpecker is the “wood-sprite” or “wet-wet- 
more-wet.” Wrynecks are “leaders,” or “cuckoo leaders.” A goldfinch is a 
“ King Harry,” a great tit a “ saw-sharper,” a blue tit a “ prickcheese.” Long- 
tailed tits have two names, “ Caper-long-tail,” and “pudding poke,” this latter 
from the shape of the nest, which is considered to be like a bag in which puddings 
are made. Missel-thrushes are “ misselers,” and hedge sparrows “hedge betlies.” 
As a thrush is a “ mavis,” and a snail a “ hod-me-dod,” or “ dodman,” it is not 
uncommon to see a mavis “ knapping” a dodman against a stone in our East 
Anglian roads. 
Toads are of two kinds, the “ walking load ” and the “ crawling toad.” This 
has nothing to do with the natterjack, of which my humble neighbours are quite 
ignorant. All toads are “ Charlies.” 
Moles not being distinguished here by the name of “ wants,” the following 
piece of information comes from other parts. A city cyclist, seeing a quantity of 
small hillocks in a field in the country, asked a rustic what they were, and was 
told they were “ wanly tumps.” “ What is that ?” said the tourist. “ What the 
wants make ” being grunted out, he passed on very little if any the wiser. 
July , 1903. Edmund Thos. Daubeny. 
