various species of ephemera. The runs or roads, wori bare of herbage by several of these animals constantly traversing the same route, are easily discernible. They may be traced from the burrow to the same point on the margin of the pond or rivulet where they take the water.

In their excursions they constantly utter a shrill cry, which is always repeated when two shrews pass each other in their runs on the bank, and frequently also as they cross each other's course in the water. They swim and dive with great facility. The silvery lustre they wear beneath the water is owing to the air contained in the close fur of their coat, which resembles that of a mole. On coming from the water, this coat appears to be perfectly dry; but on shrews landing they have been observed to shake themselves suddenly, in order to throw off any drops adhering to it. The water-shrew does not devour its prey in the stream, but having secured it, it comes ashore, and sitting on a stone or clod there steadies its prize between its fore-paws, and so commences the feast. The beetle called the water-boatman is often chased and caught by this active little creature. It also pursues shoals of minnows or sticklebacks, but can seldom succeed in making a capture, owing to their sudden movements

and extreme rapidity.

The water-shrew is, in its

turn, preyed upon by the weasel.

The water-rat is now very busy. It must not be confounded with the destructive creature so well known to the farmer, and which also frequents the banks of ditches, rivulets, and canals. Excepting the structure of its tail, the water-rat is a miniature representation of the beaver. It swims and dives very adroitly, and excavates deep furrows in the bank. Its food is entirely vegetable, consisting of roots and aquatic plants. Evening is the time in which it steals forth to enjoy the delights of active existence, and it continues alert during the night.

We now turn again to the land. The hare breeds in May, and the leverets, when taken young, are easily domesticated, and will become bold and familiar. Our poet, Cowper, proved this. He says:

"One shelter'd hare

Has never heard the sanguinary yell
Of cruel man, exulting in her woes.
Innocent partner of my peaceful home,
Whom ten long years' experience of my care
Has made at last familiar; she has lost

Much of her vigilant instinctive dread,

Not needful here, beneath a roof like mine.

Yes-thou may'st eat thy bread, and lick the hand
That feeds thee; thou may'st frolic on the floor
At ev❜ning, and at night retire secure

To thy straw couch, and slumber unalarm'd;
For I have gain'd thy confidence, have pledg'd
All that is human in me, to protect

Thine unsuspecting gratitude and love.
If I survive thee, I will dig thy grave;
And when I place thee in it, sighing say,

I knew at least one hare that had a friend."

One was very

A lady brought up two leverets. docile and gentle, delighting to lie in her lap, or on the hearth-rug by the fire. The other was morose, and a foe to the cat and a small spaniel, over which he had the complete mastery. Another instance is still more curious. A leveret, brought home to a gentleman's house, was nursed and suckled by a cat, whose kittens had been destroyed. The leveret, however, was soon missing, and could not be found. It was, therefore, supposed that some strange cat or dog had seized it; but, in about a fortnight after, as the gentleman was sitting one evening in his garden, he observed something approaching; it was the cat, with tail erect, and purring most complacently; and something more was seen gambolling after her. This proved to be the lost leveret, which she had adopted in the place of her kittens, and continued to support with great affection.

Among our winged summer visitors, the lingerers on the passage have at length made their appearance.

The swift is now seen whirling round the old tower, uttering ever and anon its shrill loud scream as it dashes along with astonishing velocity. It is on the alert at the first dawn of day, and, except while sitting on its eggs, or reposing during a few hours at night, its whole existence is passed on the wing; on the wing it eats, drinks, bathes, and collects materials for its nest. It breeds in the dark crevices between the stonework of towers and other buildings, making a simple nest of dried grasses and feathers. Unlike the swallow and the martin, it only lays two eggs of a milk-white colour, and breeds only once during its sojourn here. The female sits closely and patiently all day; but just before the close of evening she rushes forth, sweeps around for a few minutes, as if to stretch her pinions, snatches a hasty meal, and returns to brood over her eggs. The feet of the swift are expressly fitted to enable it to cling firmly to the rough surfaces of the stones of buildings or the sides of rocks, the crevices of which afford it a retreat.

The flycatcher, an elegant little bird, may now be seen. It waits till the trees are full of foliage, and the insects swarm in the air, before it ventures to visit us. Its actions are worthy of notice: how light and easy is its flight! Choosing some twig, it looks out for its

prey, gives a short but rapid chase to such insects as pass by, returning after each excursion to the same spot. The flycatcher is a mute, familiar bird, frequenting gardens, orchards, and plantations, and commonly building on the branches of fruit trees nailed against walls, or the sides of houses. When the young leave the nest, they remain for a considerable period under the care of the parent birds, who feed them very diligently. In their first plumage they are prettily mottled with white.

Among the most remarkable of our winged arrivals of this month is the goatsucker, nightjar, or fern-owl. Its favourite haunts are the borders of woods, narrow woody valleys, and extensive fern beds, clothing the slopes of upland pasture grounds; and it has been seen and heard among clumps of sycamore trees, near farmhouses. No longer should it be called the goatsucker; the name arose from the notion that it drained the udders of goats. It follows indeed cattle, goats, and sheep, but it is attracted by the flies which are their tormentors, and which it is busy in catching.

As the evening draws on, the great bat makes its appearance. It is partial to the neighbourhood of large sycamore trees, round the tops of which, and among the branches, several have been observed on