green colour, which I transferred without a pang to my collection, and which are frequently pointed at as "Starling's" when the contents of my cabinet are on view to friends and acquaintances. I believe it was Pope who wrote "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing," and I shall make bold to add, "especially where birds' eggs are concerned." My ill-success in not meeting with more specimens of this unspotted variety does not arise from slackness or laziness, as I never pass a Blackbird's nest without inspecting its contents. Boys who meditate purchasing the eggs of Fieldfares and Ring-Ousels will do well to be on their guard, as they bear a strong family likeness to those of the species under discussion.
Blackbirds are somewhat prone to rearing a second brood in the same nest, and I have known less than a week elapse between the departure of the young and the laying of fresh eggs. In the spring of 1883 a pair of these birds possessed themselves of a vacated Mistle-Thrush's nest for their second brood, and brought them off successfully. The earliest recorded date I have of an egg is March 16th, 1885.
Pied varieties are occasionally met with; my youngest brother shot a lovely bird at Plumtree, near Nottingham, the black and white feathers being most evenly apportioned. But, in this connection, it was my own star that was destined to be in the ascendant on Oct. 19th, 1893, on which date I was staying with my friend Captain Quintin Dick at Hinton St. George, in Somersetshire, he having taken Lord Poulett's extensive shootings thereabout on a lease. A strong contingent of us had just commenced warfare on the Partridges in a large field of turnips, when I espied a white bird skimming away over the tops of them in front of the "gun" on my left, who happened to be my host. I heard him say sharply to one of the keepers, "What the deuce is that?"; and, though simultaneously I fairly screamed "Shoot, shoot!" the bird was quickly out of range, and the responsive "bang, bang," came too late to be effective. As luck would have it, however, there were a brace of birds not picked when, we reached the boundary hedge, for the turnips were of tremendous growth, and, as some little delay appeared inevitable, Capt. Dick very goodnaturedly let me go off in pursuit of this rara avis, an under-keeper accompanying me, as apparently my only chance of
