specially wished to meet with the Marsh Warbler, but it was not till about May 24th, a full fortnight after the Reed Warblers had settled down amongst the willows, that they reached their summer quarters. In a day or two they had taken possession of the fringe of willow-scrub on both banks of the Rhine. I have never before seen a cover so swarming with any one species of Warbler. I found them just as abundant upon similar ground on the island of Grafenwerth, and beside the Moselle at Coblenz. They skulk much less than the Reed Warbler, often singing, in full view, a sweet and charming song with real melody, some notes as liquid as those of a Goldfinch, though delivered in the hurried style of all aquatic warblers. Many pairs settled down to breed in the rye, which was then in the ear. I have found them several miles from the Rhine, on the dryest of corn-land, far from sedge or willow cover, and with no water but a small brook in the neighbourhood. Under such circumstances the song often puzzled me for a moment, so little did the locality suggest the Marsh Warbler. I found a nest with two eggs on May 31st, two more with three and five respectively on June 10th. All were in nettles, meadow-sweet, or similar undergrowth. Early in July the song gave place to a low scolding note, which I heard from time to time in the jungle till Sept. 8th. Curiously, I could never meet with the Sedge Warbler or the Great Reed Warbler; once only with the Grasshopper Warbler.
One other denizen of the willow-scrub remains to be mentioned. It was on May 10th that an unknown song drew my attention to a bird perched upon a willow-spray. The telescope showed a Bluethroat in all his glory of white-spotted blue gorget, with black and chestnut band below. He sat like a Redstart, but with his ruddy tail half spread. I soon found that the Bluethroat was common along the Rhine and Sieg, wherever the right sort of ground occurred,—sandy wastes, with clumps of reed or with willow and other undergrowth. The two islands of Nonnenwerth and Grafenwerth, which the Rhine tourist sees as soon as the Drachenfels is passed, both run out into long sandy willow-grown spits, which I found to be tenanted by several pairs. There is no need to describe the song after the excellent account of it given by Mr. O.V. Aplin (Zool., Nov., 1896, p. 427). The males perched upon a reed-stem or willow-spray, always in
