some of them are five feet in length, they dart about graceful as a swallow flying to the eaves, now skimming the ground, then with a turn of their strong rudder-like tail, shooting swiftly to the other end of the tank. If you have a chance, observe how they dispose of the herrings with which they are fed; you may then believe anything of the sanguinary shark, to which they are allied by family ties.

The ever-popular octopus may be seen to excellent advantage in the table tank. A comrade was put there, but the bulley brother drove it out. Mr. H. Lee, in his interesting work on "The Devil Fish of Fiction and of Fact," gives a very vivid description of the peculiar amiabilities of these bandits, and all one's observations lead one to the conclusion that at close quarters it would be wise to refuse their friendship on any terms.

From fishes we pass to birds. About a couple of miles out of Brighton, on the Dyke road, may be noticed, on the right hand, a long, solid, newly-erected building, lighted by sky-lights only. It might from its appearance have been a drill-hall, a windowless schoolroom, or a mysterious place of worship; it is, in reality, the private museum of a gentleman of independent means, who, from his Harrow days to the present time, has spent his time in the shooting and preserving of birds. Curiosity was naturally excited in Brighton by the gradual progress of the strange-looking building, and there was quite a rush for the admission cards which were, in process of time, by favour granted at certain hours of certain days to inspect the wonders it contained.

To say that this is an exhibition of stuffed birds is not enough, for it is the largest and best set up collection of British specimens that has ever been made. Mr. Booth, who

has thus devoted his energies to scientific pastime, has here accumulated more than three thousand, many of them very rare birds; and as there are two hundred and ninety distinct species represented, but few individuals remain to complete the ornithology of the British Islands.

How a sight like this sets a sportsman, whose opportunities are not equal to his zeal, longing to scour the coasts of East Anglia, to make fowling raids upon the wild islands of Western Scotland, to punt warily with heavy duck-gun about the broads of Norfolk and Suffolk, to range the health-giving downs of Sussex, to plod through the desolate and damp fen country. By these toilsome delights alone this magnificent display of birds has been gathered together. Norfolk, it is no secret, is the ornithologist's happiest hunting-ground. Where else would you be likely to find this spoon-bill, Paget's pochard, Bewick's swan, ruff, shore-lark, Temminck's stint, and, over and above even these rara aves, this fine specimen of the stork? None familiar with sport on those dreary broads will be ignorant of what these birds mean to the fortunate fowler; they mean long nights, cramped and frozen, lying in wait amongst the forests of reeds which whistle and moan dismally in the winter wind, and many a return to quarters unsuccessful and dispirited.

Next to Norfolk, Scotland has furnished the most and the best birds. There are goat-sucker, gold crest, shield duck, pintail, grey crow, buzzard, greylag goose, shag, black guillemot, greenshank, scaup, and many others from the islands off the coast of Ross-shire; others from the moors and forests of Sutherland, Perthshire, and Haddington. Rock and sea birds are brought down from the Bass Rock and Fern Islands; Sussex has furnished smaller but no less interesting varieties.

Having got your birds, the next proceeding is to set them up, so that no outrage, as is so common even in public museums, be done to science. What can be more ridiculous than to place your tree-birds on the ground floor, and your ground-birds at the top of the collection? No such error is here committed. The collector has called in the carpenter, scene-painter, botanist, and geologist, to aid him in showing, so far as might be, the habitat of each species. Each case is therefore a landscape picture in miniature.

Take an example. Grass, actually brought from the spot, is seemingly growing from between the stones and hillocks, over which a bramble bush, wonderfully true to nature, is spreading its prickly branches. From one of the sprays an anxious little titlark is dropping a green caterpillar into a young cuckoo's gaping mouth, while in the background the titlark's mate, looking pertly on from a higher perch, appears only half-consenting to the transaction. There are insects on the bramble leaves, plants amongst the undergrowth, and all are strictly after nature. This studious care is apparent in all the cases. It is difficult to realize that those are not real jays in a real poplar; that the slimy wood-work with its rusty ring, the marine vegetation and refuse shells which make a background for the phalarope are not the actual corner of the Shoreham oyster pond, of which it is a fac-simile. Sometimes the effect is dramatic, as with the carrion crow, black as night, upon a snow-white bank, waiting for the death of the wounded teal, which is crawling into a hole, with leg draggling and wing outstretched. Sometimes it is comic as with the four barn owls, sitting in a model-copied stone for stone and timber for timber-of Chiltington Church belfry.

But apart from the strikingly natural attitudes of the birds, and the photographic spring, summer, autumn, and winter

scenes of which they are the chief objects, we have many an illustration of how the ways of Providence are fitted to birds as well as to men. The mature sheldrake appears in his beautiful markings of black, white, chestnut, and carmine; but he can take care of himself. Not so the brood; and there you may espy the little creatures amongst the sand and brown seaweed, to which they are so assimilated in colour that you would never discover them if they lay close. The difference of plumage at different seasons of the year, and at progressive stages of the bird's growth, are always, where possible, illustrated. Most remarkable of all in this respect is the ptarmigan, represented (as shot in Perthshire), in three aspects. In summer we have them amongst the boulders of the moor; the cock, a handsome black and white fellow, with showy scarlet top-knot like comb, the hen so like a grouse that none but a naturalist could distinguish the one from the other. It needs, however, no special knowledge to observe how appropriate these colours are to the grey stone lichens and stunted heather amongst which they are now feeding. Next we have the ptarmigan family in autumn, they have changed, like surrounding nature, to a sober grey. The gay cavalier that erstwhile lorded it so bravely has become a Quaker, conscious of his altered condition. Lastly, come the winter birds, with cocks and hens alike white as the snow on which they stand.

This is the kind of principle upon which the entire collection (which is not yet, however, complete) has been set up, and sufficient has been indicated to show that while it is a unique collection of British birds, it is also a charming picture gallery, and an instructive school of natural history. In other words, it is a work of genius.

CHAPTER XI.

WINTER AT HAZELBARN.*

HERE are certain long-standing town friends of mine. who affect or really feel concern at what they term

my exile at Hazelbarn. They can understand that life in quiet country quarters is tolerable enough in the bright summer time, and they say so. Two poets amongst them talk of the birds, flowers, dews, and showers; one notorious lotus-eater babbles of a wide-spreading elm, under which he has sipped cooling drinks and smoked many pipes of peace; others, who are gourmands, are not dead to the charms of duck and green peas, of strawberries newly gathered, and cream fresh skimmed. It is the winter that chills the marrow of their comprehension.

Perhaps it is because I am not an out-and-out country gentleman, a veritable squire, who must perforce learn that property has its duties, etc., etc., that I am thus pitied. There is something in that I fancy.

The man who, like Smythe Smythe, Esq., on the hill

* A statement by Farley Fenwick, Esq., formerly of Gray's Inn Square.