period of twenty years. Secondly, Mr. Coward's words—"the Hares were still in their white winter pelage, though most of them had already patches of brown about the head and flanks" (in March, 1899)—seem to imply his surprise that the mild weather had not the effect of causing the Hares to reassume their darker pelage. Now it is my experience that, whatever be the cause and date of the assumption of the winter coat, once assumed it cannot be thrown off until the regular annual moulting time—in my experience the first week of May. Thus I have already recorded the incongruous spectacle of a Hare of Scotch blood browsing the flowery pastures of late April in the South of Ireland, the while clothed in a conspicuous livery of white. And the same thing happened in the case of a Hare kept captive at Cambridge. The patches of brown seen by Mr. Coward were not then, as his remarks would imply, the advance guard of the dark coat of summer, but the rearguard of that of the previous summer, to which the winter change had never extended. Before concluding this short note, I should like to mention (what, indeed, has been partly the cause of my having written) how grateful I shall always be for any information which may tend to throw light upon the interesting question of winter whitening in animals.—G.E.H. Barrett-Hamilton (Kilmanock, Arthurstown, Waterford, Ireland).
AVES.
Curious Accident to a Young Mistle-Thrush.—A friend of mine in Hampstead caught a young Mistle-Thrush (Turdus viscivorus) in his garden, which was not old enough to fly, and put it into a cage to preserve it from Cats. On handling the bird the first time he noticed what appeared to be a skewer sticking out about half an inch near the left shoulder, and which was apparently securely imbedded. When examining the bird I found that a twig was firmly fixed, and upon pulling out the same with some effort it proved to be an inch and a half in length, and an eighth of an inch in diameter. The point was stuck into the membrane of the left wing close to the bend, and penetrated nearly half an inch below the skin. The bird did not appear to suffer any pain, though quite a deep hole was left where the twig had been. The piece of stick is before me as I write, and is clotted with some little blood, and a number of small feathers are adhering to the larger half. Had the bird not been relieved from the stick it is conceivable that the latter would have become even more firmly imbedded, and ultimately prevented the use of the wing altogether. The outer end of the twig has apparently been broken off, which tends to show that it may have been considerably longer when first it came in contact with the bird. One solution as to how the bird became transfixed is that it may have fallen out of the nest on to a small branch with an upturned
