NOTES AND QUERIES FOR NATURALISTS. NOTES. THE WILD DUCK (Anas Boschas). There are few birds to whom we are more indebted for a supply of our animal wants than the duck. Not only have we, as in the case of the domestic fowls, subjugated the wild bird to our control, and made it the willing tenant of our farm-yard, but every year thousands and even millions of the wild birds themselves are poured into our markets, furnishing our tables with a constant supply of the most delicious food. In addition to the duck in a state of nature, and its descendant in a state of captivity, who appears to inherit the spirit of serfdom in the absence of liberty, and who therefore makes no attempt to quit the farm-yard, there is a third class of ducks which still retain the spirit and manners of the wild duck, with much of the familiarity of the domestic species. Such are the birds found in our parks and aviaries, and the person who has seen the birds in St. James's Park familiarly feeding at his feet, or snatching the crumbs from his hand, has perhaps little idea that these are the descendants of ducks who, not two generations since, winged their flight over the ocean, or reared their young in summer in some lonely swamp in Lapland or Siberia. There is hardly a spot throughout England where there is a river or a pool of water, in which, during the winter, wild ducks may not occasionally be met with. Their visits are not confined to the sea-shore, to the estuary, or the lake, the pond of the farm-yard is sometimes visited by a straggler, and they sometimes follow the course of rivers through crowded cities. The writer has seen them fired at between London and Westminster bridges, and has often started them from spots where they were least likely to be met with. Though all the numberless varieties of ducks go by the common name of "wild-ducks," it is to be understood that reference is here made only to the common species, the male of which is known by the name of mallard, and which is beyond doubt the parent of the domestic varieties. The expedients to which man has resort for the purpose of capturing these birds are as varied as the climes which it inhabits. In our own country they may be classed under three heads-the decoy, the punt, and the shoulder gun. But few, comparatively, are killed by this last method, though a good sportsman, near the sea-coast, when the wind blows strong on the shore, will sometimes bag his nine, ten, or even a dozen birds. This sport, however, is very fatiguing, as the weather at such seasons is more than ordinarily severe, and unusual patience is required of the sportsman. The punt furnishes a more profitable harvest, but involves great exposure, and no inconsiderable share of danger. As the dusk of evening draws on, the shooter, with almost breathless anxiety, slowly pushes his punt up some arm of the sea or creek, where, from the surgy state of the shore, swarming with seaweed and minute shell-fish, he knows the ducks are sure to alight; silently and slowly, with his form stretched horizontally in the boat, he paddles along, following the sound made by the multitude of birds that are feeding on the waters. All is dark, and he has no guide to the flock but the trumpet-like noise which they ever and anon give forth. When he judges himself sufficiently near to fire with precision, he alarms the flock, and listening to the sound they make in rising, for they rise heavily, pours into their compact phalanx the contents of his large swivel gun. Another discharge from a large shoulder gun, which he carries in the punt, follows, and then all is hushed, save at intervals the struggle of a wounded bird plashing the water. The task of picking up birds now commences, and if he be a practised hand, he is sometimes rewarded with as many s fifty, sixty, or seventy ducks. The principal spots where punt shooting is carried on are in the creeks on the coast of Essex and Lincolnshire, and at the back of the Isle of Wight, and the Southampton Waters. Decoys are principally confined to Essex and Lincolnshire, and are his carried on more for profit than pleasure. The birds are decoyed into the net by means of hemp and other seeds scattered on the water, but the process is too complicated to be described here. Some idea may be formed of the immense number captured in this manner from the fact that the decoys at Wainfleet in Essex furnished, a few years ago, in one season, no less than 31,200 birds. The great period for the migration of wild-ducks is November, though great numbers arrive in October. A few scatter themselves through the country, but the great bulk of the birds remain in open weather upon the sand-banks and mud flats about the estuaries of our great rivers, particularly the Thames, which they do not quit till the northeasterly winds render it impossible for them to feed there. The greater part remigrate in March and April, but many thousands remain and breed in our fens and swamps, where the female rears in retirement from ten to eighteen young birds. THE PET HEDGEHOG. Several years ago some friends were out rabbit shooting, and brought home amongst their spoil a hedgehog, As I am a great lover of dumb animals, I begged hard for the poor creature's life to be spared, and thought I would see if it were possible to tame the timorous animal. Ac cordingly, I set about the operation of taming it, and, to my utter astonishment, I succeeded so far that the little creature, when I spoke to it, would immediately unfold itself. After a little time it became so friendly with me, that, when I used to take it out for an airing in the garden, when I called it it would come and run backwards and forwards over my hand, and play about without showing the slightest appearance of timidity. I usually fed it upon bread and milk.-E. S. P. ANSWERS TO QUERIES. AGE OF ANIMALS (p. 228).-As to the duration of life in animals generally, this is a crude question, and can only be answered by a reference to a few of the leading species, thus-A bear rarely exceeds 20 years; a dog lives 20 years; a wolf 20; a fox 14 or 16; lions are long-lived, Pompey lived to the age of 70. The average age of cats is 15 years; a squirrel and hare 7 or 8 years; rabbits 7. Elephants have been known to live to the great age of 400 years. When Alexander the Great had conquered one Porus, king of India, he took a great elephant which had fought very valiantly for the king, named him Ajax, and dedicated him to the sun, and then let him go with this inscription:-" Alexander, the son of Jupiter hath dedicated Ajax to the Sun." This elephant was found with this inscription 350 years after. Pigs have been known to live to the age of 30 years: the rhinoceros to 20. A horse has been known to live to the age of 62, but averages 25 to 30. Camels sometimes live to the age of 100. Stags are long-lived. Sheep seldom exceed the age of 10. Cows live about 15 years. Cuvier considers it probable that whales sometimes live 1,000 years. The dolphin and porpoise attain the age of 30. An eagle died at Vienna at the age of 104 years. Ravens frequently reach the age of 100. Swans have been known to live to 300. Mr. Mallerton has the skeleton of a swan that attained the age of 200. Pelicans are long-lived. A tortoise has been known to live to the age of 107. TAME OTTERS (p. 228).-That these animals are capable of being tamed is well known. In every part of India the Chinese or Indian otter is trained to hunt and capture fish for its master, and even the common species has been found sufficiently docile for this purpose. The Rev. J. G. Wood, in his "Illustrated Natural History," published by Routledge, cites two or three examples of this. We quote one of them:-" Mr. Richardson gives an interesting account of an otter which he tamed, and which was accustomed to follow him in his walks like a dog, sporting by his side with graceful playfulness, and swimming at perfect liberty in the stream. This animal, however, could never be induced to yield her prey to her master, but when she saw him aproaching would quickly swim to the opposite bank of the The river, lay down her fish, and eat it in peace. She animal was accustomed to wander at will in the house and garden, and would eat all kinds of garden pests, such as snails, worms, and grubs, detaching the snails from their shells with great dexterity. She would also leap upon the chairs as they stood by the windows and catch and eat flies as they fluttered on the window-panes. struck up a warm friendship with an Augura cat, and, on one occasion, when her friend was attacked by a dog, she flew at the assailant, seized him by the jaw, and was so excited that her master was obliged to separate the combatants, and to send the dog out of the room." To this we may add an instance or two from Cassell's Popular Natural History:-"A man named Collins, who resided near Woolar, in Northunberland, had a tame otter, which followed him wherever he went. He frequently took it to fish in the river for its own food, and when satiated it never failed to return to its master. One day, in his absence, the otter, being taken out to fish by his son, refused to return at the accustomed call, and was lost. Collins, after several days' search in vain, being near the place where his son had lost it, and calling it by its name, found, to his great joy, the otter creeping to his feet, with every mark of its strong attachment. An otter kept at Corsbie House, Wigtonshire, evinced a great fondness for gooseberries, fondled about its keeper's feet like a pup or a kitten, and even seemed inclined to salute her cheek, when permitted to carry its freedom so far." THE NUTCRACKER (p. 228).-This is a bird of the crows or crow kind; it is called by naturalists micifruga caryocatactes, a sufficiently ugly name for the ugliest creature in existence. And this bird certainly is not a beauty. Its shape is awkward and heavy, and its plumage of a dull reddish and blackish brown; looks, in consequence of the tips of the feathers being white, as if it had been burned all over. In this country the nutcracker ranks only as an occasional straggler, but few specimens having been obtained; but it is common in many parts of the continent, living in woods in the mountainous districts, and feeding on nuts and other hard fruits, the shells of which it splits with its large and powerful bill, hence the common name of the bird. SINGING FISH (p. 228). There are several kinds of fish which are said to utter sounds sufficiently harmonious to be called musical. Among them is the trumpet-fish of the Mediterranean (centrisans scotopar) sometimes called the sea snipe, on account of its long tubular beak, which seems well adapted for drawing from among the seaweed and sand the small crustaceous animals on which it feeds. This is a very beautiful fish, the colour of the under and upper parts being bright red, of the sides of the head and under parts silvery. Several communications have recently appeared in the Athenæum on fish which utter musical sounds; the following are the latest of them "On the broad expanse or bay of the Tagus, which extends from Cacilhas Point to Alden Gallega, I have heard proceed from the water, and apparently close under the boat, on several occasions, sounds resembling the vibrations of a deep-toned bell, gong, or pedal-pipe of an organ. The boatmen seemed to know them well, and generally exclaimed The Carvina.' This is a large fish with black fins, which is, I believe, occasionally to be met with in the Lisbon market."-E. "Allow me to add, to the varied testimony of your correspondents, evidence of its existence in a still more remote quarter of the globe. In the year 1843, whilst proceeding at night in a small sailing-boat up the Swan River, on the western coast of Australia, I was startled by a sound proceeding from the bottom of the boat of a vibratory character, like that of the pedal-pipe of a small organ. The boatmen knew it well, as caused by what they called the 'trumpeter' fish, which attaches itself to the bottom of the boat by an apparatus similar to that of the 'sucking' fish, which they stated it resembled. But, as I could never obtain a specimen, or further proof of their knowledge of the creature, the statement must be taken for what it is worth. The sound at times became more distinct and feeble, varying in the manner described by one of your earliest correspondents; but this I could clearly trace to the occasionally altered condition of the boat, as its sailing powers were increased or the reverse. The night was moderately dark. It is thought by the boatmen only to attach itself at night."-J.W.F.B. WOODWELE (p. 228).-It is a disputed question what bird the old writers meant by this term. Some consider it a species of thrush, others a woodlark. The bird figures in the ancient ballad of "True Thomas:" "There the jay and the thrustele, The mavis winged her song, The woodwale found, as bright as a bell In this quaint rhyme the throstle and mavis (thrush and blackbird) are mentioned distinct from the woodwale, whatever that may be. The name also occurs in Chaucer, who says― "In many places nightingales And ulps, and finches, and woodweles." Woodwele and Wetwele are other modifications of the same name. The latter term is applied in the New Forest, Hampshire, to a kind of woodpecker at the present day. This, however, can hardly have been the bird meant by the old poets, for it is not a songster.-H. Y. S. SILKWORMS (p. 154, 228)-The silkworm is a native of China, and is considered by the inhabitants of great value, so much so, that all persons leaving the empire were caused to be searched, lest they should have concealed any of the worms or eggs about them, and for a long time they succeeded. They were, however, at last brought over by a gentleman in his walking-stick, having a movable top, the stick of course being hollow, wherein he deposited a number of eggs, escaping the vigilance of the Chinese officers. ADA AND EVA. QUERIES. thus The Armadillo.-This scaly coated creature has lately attracted my attention at the Zoological Gardens, and I want to know something about its habits; I understand this, too, is a reptile, but how unlike it is to a serpent.-BOBBY B. The Mermaid Superstition.-Has any recent instance occurred in which a real or fancied sight of the maiden with the sea-green locks and looking glass, who sits on the rocks and sings to lure unwary mariners to destruction, has been obtained?-MARIA. DOMESTIC HINTS AND RECEIPTS. RICE DUMPLINGS.-Pick and wash a pound of rice, and boil it gently in two quarts of water till it becomes dry, keeping the pot well covered, and not stirring it. Then take it off the fire, and spread it out to cool on the bottom of an inverted sieve, loosening the grains lightly with a fork, that all the moisture may evaporate. Pare a dozen pippins, or some large juicy apples, and scoop out the core. Then fill up the cavity with marmalade, or with lemon and sugar. Cover every apple all over with a thick coating of the boiled rice. Tie up each in a separate cloth, and put them into a pot of cold water. They will require about an hour and a quarter after they begin to boil, perhaps longer. POACHED EGGS.-Poached eggs make several excellent dishes, but poaching them is rather a delicate operation, as in breaking the egg into the water, particular care must be taken to keep the white round the yolk. The best way is to open the small end of the egg with a knife. When the egg is done (it must be very soft) it should be thrown into cold water, where it may be pared, and its appearance improved, before it is dished up. Poached eggs are served up upon spinach, or stewed endive, or alone with rich gravy, or with stewed Spanish onions. They may also be fried in oil until they are brown, when they form a good dish with rich gravy. CLEANING HAIR BRUSHES.-It is said that soda dissolved in cold water is better than soap and hot water. The latter very soon softens the hairs, and the rubbing completes their destruction. Soda having an affinity for grease, cleans the brush with a very little friction. To CLFAN GILT FRAMES.-Beat up three ounces of the white of eggs with one ounce of soda. Blow the dust from the frames with a bellows; then rub them over with a soft brush dipped in the mixture, and they will become bright and fresh. HINTS ON PICKLING.-Do not keep pickles in common earthenware, as the glazing contains lead, and combines with the vinegar. Vinegar for pickling should be sharp, though not the sharpest kind, as it injures the pickles. If you use copper, bell-metal, or brass vessels for pickling, never allow the vinegar to cool in them, as it then is poisonous. Add a teaspoonful of alum, and a teacup of salt to each three gallons of vinegar, and tie up a bag with pepper, ginger root, spices of all the different sorts in it, and you have vinegar prepared for any kind of pickling. Keep pickles only in wood or stoneware. Anything that has held grease will spoil pickles. Stir pickles occasionally, and if there are soft ones take them out and scald the vinegar, and pour it hot over the pickles. Keep enough vinegar to cover them well. If it is weak, take fresh vinegar and pour on hot. Do not boil vinegar or spice above five minutes. DOMESTIC PEACE.-The less of physical force or menacing language we use-the less, to take an expressive word, we scold our children-the more order and quiet we shall commonly secure. We have seen families where a single word or look even would allay a rising storm. The gentle but firm method is the best security for domestic peace. SPONGE BISCUITS.-Beat the yolks of twelve eggs for half an hour; then put in a pound and a half of beaten sifted sugar, and whisk it until it rises in bubbles; beat the whites to a strong froth, and whisk them well with the sugar and yolks; work in fourteen ounces of flour, with the rinds of two lemons grated. Bake them in tin moulds buttered, in a quick oven, for an hour; before they are baked sift a little fine sugar over them. CHILBLAINS.-Put the hands and feet once a week into hot water, in which two or three handfuls of common salt have been thrown. This is a certain preventive as well as a cure. TAKE PHYSIC FOR CROSSNESS.-A sensible woman, the mother of a young family, taught her children from their earliest childhood to consider ill-humour as a disorder which was to be cured by physic. Accordingly, she had always small doses ready, and the little patients, whenever it was thought needful, took rhubarb for the crossness. No punishment was required. Peevishness, illtemper, and rhubarb were associated in their minds always as cause and effect.-Southey's Literary Pastimes. CHOOSE THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET.A free exposure to the light and to the sun's influence has a great effect in diminishing the tendency to disease. The sunny side of the street should always be chosen as a residence, from its superior healthiness. It has been found in public buildings, &c., that those are always the most healthy which are the lightest and sunniest. In some barracks in Russia, it was found that in a wing where no sun penetrated, there occurred three cases of sickness, for every single case which happened on that side of the building exposed to the sun's rays. All other circumstances were equal- such as ventilation, size of apartments, number of inmates, diet, &c.-so that no other cause for this disproportion seemed to exist. In the Italian cities, this practical hint is well known. Malaria seldom attacks the set of apartments or houses which are freely open to the sun, while, on the opposite side of the street, the summer and autumn are very unhealthy, and even dangerous. TO PRESERVE MILK.-Provide bottles, which must be perfectly clean, sweet, and dry; draw the milk from the cow into the bottles, and, as they are filled, immediately cork them well up, and fasten the corks with pack thread or wire. Then spread a little straw in the bottom of a boiler, on which place bottles with straw between them, until the boiler contains a sufficient quantity. Fill it up with cold water; heat the water, and as soon as it begins to boil, draw the fire, and let the whole gradually cool. When quite cold, take out the bottles, and pack them in sawdust, in hampers, and stow them in the coolest part of the house. Milk preserved in this manner, and allowed to remain even eighteen months in the bottles, will be as sweet as when first milked from the cow. TO PREVENT THE SMOKING OF A LAMP.- Soak the wick in strong vinegar, and dry it well before you use it; it will then burn clearly, and give much satisfaction for the trifling trouble in preparing it. RECEIPT FOR TOMATO SAUCE.-Cut six tomatoes in half, and having pressed out their juice, put to them some gravy, a bit of garlick, a little parsley, and a few drops of vinegar. These must be boiled together for a short time, and passed through a sieve. ORIGINAL POETRY. AUTUMNAL REFLECTIONS. PALE tints of Autumn, lovely ye appear, Gilding with glowing shades the fast declining year; Ye teach us that all earthly things decay, The trees in varied hues appear- There's something lovely e'en amidst decay That speaks of that fair land where flowers immortal bloom, Beyond the grave and confines of the tomb. Autumn reminds us of declining age- IN THE CITY. IN the City-in the City Many regal spirits stoop STEPHANIE. 'Neath a load of sordid sorrows, Till their pinions, dust-soiled, droopDroop for lack of common comforts, To ennerve them for a flight On a glorious mercy errand To the realms of Truth and Light. In the City-in the City Many human hearts unblest Which doth for the just remain, Ah! too many woo Despair, When she tells them that they ne'er Of their souls once loved right well, Hearts there be that run to waste- Many a heart made cold by woe Seeming darkness on the pathway JOHN GEO. THOMSON. WHERE ARE THEY GONE? WHERE are they gone? they who were once Where are they gone? I see them not, And then I only see them as "Some are far off, some near, and some Are numbered with the dead!" Where are they gone? They who have died The friend of learning, science, truth; The patriot who, with loyal heart, The Christian martyr who in faith Where are they gone? The hours that pass And we are here, yet do not think These all are gone-nay, ask not where, "Tls thine to wait, and to prepare HEBER CLYFTON. COME WITH ME. Lay aside the dusty tome, Come and hear the swallows twitter, Nature's is the sweetest book. Pages full of poesy Every floweret in the dell SONNET. TO WOMAN. F.B.B. EARTH! thou wouldst be a blank, a dreary waste, To comfort him whene'er in care and strife, And ever while he lives to make his life, His home, to him a thousand-fold more dear; May'st thou thy mission well fulfill, and he Never neglect that which is due to thee. W.H.H. |