spirited attitude, never with the listless manner of a Robin, and sang boldly and sweetly, flirting the half-spread tail with a sort of pump-handle movement, till it was sometimes more than vertical, inclined over the back. They constantly drop down into the herbage to pick up an insect, or dart up into the air for a gnat or daddy-longlegs; or one will jerk up into the air almost like a Whitethroat, and come down in Pipit-fashion, but not so stiffly, singing all the while. Towards the end of May they seemed too busy to sing much. On the 27th I saw one with food in its bill. Its white spot seemed smaller than usual, and was only seen as it gave its scolding note. All this time I saw nothing of the females. On May 31st a male bird scolded and sang in much excitement, so I beat about the scrub, and soon put up a young one which had just left the nest. I soon met with another of the same brood, but even in this supreme crisis of the family affairs the female did not put in an appearance. The young appeared to be spotted like young Robins, but were as red about the tail as the adult. Others were later, or probably two broods were reared, as all through June the males were scolding and carrying food. On the 10th I put up another young one, and for once got a view of the female. Her persistent skulking is in strong contrast to the boldness of the male. I heard the song for the last time on June 27th.
There was much to note in the Botanic Garden during May. Nightingales sang fearlessly on all sides, conscious of full security. On June 12th a pair of them, in great excitement, were leading young ones about the Natural Order beds. Others sang, though gradually less fully, all though June, and I heard a few notes so late as July 6th. Blackcaps were equally numerous. Besides their bold rich notes, they improvise at times in an undertone, with wide-gaping bill, the song being then almost unrecognizable. A Spotted Flycatcher placed its nest upon some of the strong thorns against the trunk of a gleditschia. The Wryneck called from the Schloss elms, Turtle Doves cooed, the Golden Oriole whistled, and on May 14th the Icterine Warbler arrived to take its full share in the chorus. About three pairs settled down to breed in the gardens, showing a preference for the neighbourhood of a piece of ornamental water. I listened with peculiar interest to the song of this bird on account of the discussion with refer-
