parts, the skin of the bill and legs—and here we have a never-absent sign of a bird which has been for any length of time deprived of its freedom; and if none of these could be pointed out in the captured specimen, 1 should then, in spite of one having been known to have strayed from an aviary somewhere at hand, feel as much entitled to my assumption that this bird, which showed no traces of its captivity, must be another, and not the escaped one, as an objector would be justified in claiming it as the missing bird. I see that Mr. Dresser, after mentioning two examples of the Purple Gallinule which had been obtained in the North of England, adds that these were probably escapes, and his decision justly carries great weight; but Mr. Gray, who was fortunate enough to handle, in the flesh, one which had been shot in Argyleshire, could find on the bird no signs that it had ever been subjected to confinement. Bearing in mind that these birds are migratory, and that the mouth of the Rhone or the coast of Portugal is at no great distance from this country for a bird when fairly on wing, Porphyrio veterum might justly object to be refused a place among the list of our chance visitors, which includes many other birds even less likely than this to wander to our coasts.—Murray A. Mathew (Bishop's Lydeard, Taunton).
The Migration of Birds.—I have read the remarks of Mr. Cordeaux in 'The Zoologist' for May (p. 205), on the subject of migration, and am almost tempted to reply. I cannot afford the time, however, even if you would grant me the space. I will only observe that there are apparently three classes of thinkers. First, those who believe in "an intuitive instinct which almost seems like a sixth sense," of which number Mr. Cordeaux is one. Secondly, those who vote avine migration—and with it, I suppose, all migration—to be a mystery. Thirdly, persons, of whom I am one, not able to understand "the sixth sense," not finding any great mystery, but regarding avine migration as part of the general law of flux and reflux which is apparent in so many organisms, &c., in the orb in which we dwell, and which is one of the conditions of the Universe. I may remark, however, that I do not go the full length attributed to me by Mr. Cordeaux, for to deny any instinct to animals would no doubt be "absurd." I only say these few words for fear silence might be thought discourteous towards a gentleman who has worked at this subject for "more than twenty years," in fact, almost as long as I have.—George Dawson Rowley (Chichester House, Brighton).
Cuckoo's Egg in a Blackbird's Nest.—Whilst looking for Reed Warblers' nests on the Thames this summer I found a Cuckoo's egg in a Blackbird's nest, which was built in willows overhanging the river. A fewyards further on I found another egg in a Heed Warbler's nest, agreeing with the first in colour, &c., and evidently laid by the same bird. Although this is not the first instance that has been known of a Cuckoo placing its
