abundant than in former years and difficult to be reached by very young cygnets, which are, moreover, continually killed in the tights that occur between rival pairs of Swans, and which frequently assume the ignoble phase of slaughtering each other's offspring. An additional cause of destruction is the invasion of foxes, which come from a distance to prey upon the cygnets, though they do not usually attack the old Swans, one of which was, however, killed by a fox during the past winter. Whilst watching the snowy ranks of portly Swans sedately enthroned upon their nests along the marshy borders of the "fleet," I was amused at the contrast exhibited by a flock of about forty nimble Stints, Tringa alpina, that, with rapid and agile motions, were exploring its oozy brink close upon the quarters of some of the downy giants; and I was, moreover, surprised at the Stints being absent from their own nesting places so late as the 25th April, but as a smaller flock which flew past me, and of which I had a nearer view, exhibited in its full beauty the rich breeding dress of this charming Sandpiper, I concluded that the good example of the Swans would shortly be followed by their diminutive neighbours. I may add that the Polish Swan appears to be unknown at Abbotsbury, as the swanherd told me that he had never known a white cygnet hatched there.—J.H. Gurney (Northrepps Hall, Norwich).
The Spoonbill in Dorsetshire.—This handsome bird occurs occasionally at Poole. In fact, from my own observations, coupled with the information elicited from old puntsmen and fishermen, it appears that few years pass without a visit from one or more "Spoonbill Cranes," as they are locally termed. I had an opportunity of observing one myself in the early summer of 1876. The first time I distinguished the bird I was engaged in hammering my una-boat against the prevalent sou'-wester, from Poole to Wareham, at a place on the Arne shore called Turners Ford. A large white bird was standing on the beach, too high on the legs for a gull. It was very wild, and took wing a long way out of gunshot. As it opened its wings I made out what it was, and, having a powerful glass with me, I ran the boat ashore to observe its actions more minutely. It flew rapidly round and round Wareham Bay, occasionally mobbed by gulls. After a somewhat protracted flight, during which greater powers of wing seemed to be displayed than those possessed by the slow-moving Heron, the bird approached the Heron's nesting-place at Arne, which is situated about half a mile from the shore in a clump of fir trees. On these trees a number of Herons were quietly enjoying the pleasant sunshine. Attracted, however, by the unusual appearance of the Spoonbill, they all rose screaming into the air to have a look at the stranger. Apparently satisfied, most of them then returned to their post of observation on the firs. Presently the white bird joined them, pitching upon a tree in their company. This was
