sent out by one of the illustrated papers. We all know that the British public demands palm trees in an oriental scene and perhaps it demands Adjutants too. But that special artist is an honorable man—they are all honourable men. Somehow it happens that I have never seen that Adjutant at the Towers of Silence, nor any other Stork in Bombay. Of Herons, however, we have no lack. The commonest is the Pond Heron, or Blind Heron, or Paddy Bird (Ardeola leucoptera), which despises not the most paltry tank or pool that will hold a frog. Even the native Christians of Salsette do not esteem this a very dainty bird for the table, so it is little persecuted and grows very familiar, allowing you to approach within a few paces before it suddenly produces a pair of snowy wings from its pockets and flaps away. Till it unfolded those wings it was a yellowish-grey bird, darker on the back and streaky about the neck and breast. During the breeding season, that is in the rains, its back and shoulders are clothed with a mantle of rich maroon, and a crest of long, pointed, white feathers adorns its head. It is then a handsome bird, though its snakey, yellow eyes spoil its expression. Its legs are green and its beak greenish yellow, blackened at the tip as if burnt. Like all Herons, it has a great deal of feather and little solid .body. The length of its serpentine neck is quite disguised by the long plumes that hang down in front and behind. The small frogs and fishes and even the cautious crabs have little suspicion of the length of its reach. To watch for these, standing ankle-deep in dirty water, is its sole occupation, and that long, hard, sharp beak is a perfect pair of forceps for plucking them
