377 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
Notes on the Habits of the Dormouse. 
To the Editor of the Naturalist. 
Sir, —-The little Dormouse (Myoxus ' avellanarius) alluded to by my worthy 
friend Mr. J.D. Salmon, in the February number of The Naturalist (p. 104), is 
yet alive and well. It came to me from him in Sussex, on the 23rd of December 
last, a distance of 140 miles, apparently but little disturbed by the long and 
tedious ride. From that time till the 1st of April, 1838, it slept in its snug 
dormitory—a deal box lined with wood—when it, awoke, and readily ate of 
apples and nuts. It is easily alarmed* being more timid than tame, but shews 
no signs of anger on being taken in the hand. As it sleeps the greater part of 
the day, I cannot then closely watch its habits; but towards evening it wakes 
up, and is very lively and frolicsome, running, on being let out of its cage, up the 
bell-rope, where it will sit for hours in the folds of the knot, timidly watching 
our movements. 
Habits of the Red-throated Diver. 
On Friday, the 20th of April, a villager brought me a very fine specimen of 
the Red-throated Diver, or “ Rain Goose,” which he caught floundering—or 
“flopping,” as he termed it—in a ploughed field in the parish of Roughton. 
Though uninjured, it was easily captured, not being able to take flight from the 
ground. Wishing to keep it alive a few days, till I could dispatch it to a friend, 
I placed it in a wide shallow tub of soft water, and gave it some live fish. It 
appeared very lively and perfectly at ease, swimming about, diving, and preening 
its feathers. It was very fierce on being approached, darting its sharp beak at 
every thing that came near. Two or three of my Fowls occasionally jumped on 
the sides of the tub, when it quacked loudly, and flew over the edge of its bath 
in its efforts to punish the intruders. A little Dog was made to repent indulging 
its curiosity, and to retreat from my strange pet much more nimbly than it came. 
On Saturday night it died. Since then another specimen has been taken in a 
field seven miles from this place. Is it not an unusual thing for these aquatic 
birds to be seen so late, and here at all, as we are thirty or forty miles from the 
sea ?—My bird answered to Bewick’s description, except that the neck-feathers 
were not so dark as his figred supecimen. 
Query respecting the Oozing of Water from the Walnut-tree. 
On Thursday last I observed, varying from four to six feet from the trunks of 
