THE NATURALIST.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1290, 19 November 1896, Page 12

THE NATURALIST.

An excellent parrot story is related by the Rev. Menzies Ferguson, In his pleasant little booh, “Quiet Folklt occurs in a short sketch Soiffb' of the quaint characters of Ayrshire, and is to this effect: —It seems that very inatiy years ago the old proprietor of Gilmins'croft possessed a parrot of a strange and peculiar temperament. Its vocabulary was an extensive one. From small oaths it generally ended with some very pious expressions, one of which was, “ God grant it may be so." On one occasion the laird gave a dinner to his neighbours and friends. In order that Poll might not be disconsolate, a message was sent over, to the Laird of Auchmunnoch, requesting him that he should kindly send across his parrot to keep the other in good humour. This Was agreed to, One of the menservants upon the estate was entrusted with the conveyance of the Auchmunnoch parrot to Gilminseroft. On his way ha required to cross the river Ayr at a place called Step Ends, where there were stepping-stones over the stream. In walking across these the servant suddenly missed his foot and came plump into the flowing water. In the suddenness of the fall he gave vent to the exclamation, “ Deil tali’ time gentry and their fykes." Picking himself together again, he proceeded with his burden and deposited the bird safely ut the mansion-house. The two parrots were set down at one end of the dining-room, and appeared to be enjoying each other’s company. During the progress of the dinner the new-comer suddenly exclaimed, amid an animated discussion at the table, “ Deil tak’ thae gentry and the fykes," to which the other quickly replied, “ God grant it may be so." The effect of this unexpected interruption, to use the hackneyed phrase, may be more easily imagined than described.

The baby hippopotamus now at the London Zoo is so artless and confiding that it permits st-angers to rub its nose — and “ with evident relish," too ! At any cost (says the standard), the privilege of rubbing its dear little nose should bo secured for our intelligent and deserving population. If the society have not money enough to purchase it, they can appeal to the public with the best recommendations. The small hippo may be described as a refugoe, rescued from massacre. For, we learn, “it is customery for the male parent to eat the young, and to prevent this the female usually secretes her offspring." So it happened in this case. The anxious mother put her child in a hole, and covered it with weeds and grass, while she got breakfast; natives watched the operations from a distance, crept up, and stole the baby. They caught it in a net and bound it with ropes of which the cruel marks are still visible. Who would not love a pet with such an interesting story ’? It is three months old, nearly four feet high, and four to five feet long—more than a mouthful even for its gigantic and anti-human father.

A Maidenhead correspondent of the Spectator tells the following interesting story of a blue-tit’s determination to get its own way: —“There is a small pump under a yew tree, which on April 15th was used in watering. The gardeners then pumped out a mossy nest, and did not use the pump again until April 25th, when a second nest—this time with eggs in it —was again pumped out. Early on the morning of April 27th a third nest was pumped cut, with one egg in it. The whole thing was then cleared out by means of a long wire, and a mass of green moss lay on the ground by the pump. That same evening a fourth nest came to grief, being pumped out at the evening watering. Next morning, April 28th, a fifth nest began to be pumped out. When tho head gardener found that the little creature still persisted, he ordered the pumping to be stopped, and came to give me the whole history. It was, of course, arranged that the pump .bandie should bo .at once fastened up, and drought or no drought, the bird be left in peace. So there she sat till her eggs were hatched, and never minded the curious eye that so often peered down through the tiny hole at the top, whence the blue head, shining in the dim glimmering light through the spout, might ho discerned. For the last few days, however, only a nestful of fluff has been visible."