of the river, two miles S.W. of the town, called Hawes-hood. Beneath the dripping ledges of shelving limestone which wall in this secluded spot, the whole band of grey wagtails, picking up a scanty living, make a temporary sojourn. Should the weather become milder, they soon return to their favourite haunts; but if the cold increase, and be accompanied with drifting snow storms, so as to drive them from these retreats, our feathered friends make another move, and, steadfast still to the locality, again appear amongst us. But the river is now entirely quitted. The outlets of conduits, and the open channels in retired yards of the town, are their refuge from the storm. Such was the case in January, 1842, but during the past, the grey wagtails have never wandered from their autumnal residence: about the middle of February the male birds become very noisy: in the latter part of March both sexes, in pairs, move up the river and its tributary streams; and in the last week of April they may be again found in their breeding quarters. Thomas Gough.
Kendal, April 13, 1842.
Notes on the habits of certain Birds. By Archibald Hepburn, Esq.
The Jackdaw. The Rev. Mr. Stanley, in his pleasant work entitled 'Familiar History of Birds,' mentions a certain beechen wood which was inhabited by a colony of jackdaws, but whether they built only in the hollow trees or amongst the brandies does not appear. I have seen no mention of the latter fact in any of the few ornithological works which I have read. On the 13th of June, 1841, whilst walking in Binnie wood, in company with two friends, we had just emerged from a noble grove of beech trees, on a glade where the woodman's axe had been busy, when the lively cawing of a jackdaw awoke the deep stillness of the wood, and eager to learn what the garrulous, social bird was doing in that lonely place, we walked to the foot of the tall Scotch fir whence the sound proceeded; there we found the dead body of a young jackdaw, and heard the grateful chatter of another: on looking upwards to the bushy, unnatural growth of its branches, we perceived a bulky nest, whence the old daw speedily made its escape. Professor Macgillivray mentions that it frequents the ruined castle which frowns above the landing place on the Bass: I have also observed several pairs nestling in the cliffs on the north side of the same rocky isle. Although fond of the
