mustard, and have been used as food for birds; being pungent, are not desirable for them." but, I remember what a pest it used to be (and I have no doubt is still) on the poor, thin, chalky soils of the Sussex downs; it flourishes on the sandy clays of the Bracklesham Beds here on the seacoast of South Hants, where its bright yellow corymbs give a golden glow to many a broad acre of the latesown barley; and it has got such a hold upon the stiff rich lias, the oolites, and marls of fair, fat, and fertile Gloucester, that the muse of Severn-dale seized upon it as a theme for a rural lay, and the sturdy joskins make the welkin ring, and startle the echoes of the Cotteswolds with the rustic strains of "A GLOSTERZHUR ZONG ON THE KERLOCK."* "The Kerlock plant 's a zite to zee, As a zhines in the vields like gowld; But all yent gowld as glitters vree, I wur' once by my veather towld. "Zo I'll teke a heow † an' cut un al' up, "But a zays, zays he, as 't 'yunt no use Vor t'wull come ageun, whatever thee doos, In a yur or two vrom yence. "But Pa'sson zays as every weed, Like the Turmuts and Whaet we seows, Mus' all come up vrom a zort o' zeed, Zo I wun't let 'un zeed if I kneows: "But I'll teke a heow an' heow 'un all clane, Right out o' the Barley ground; While the above-mentioned plant is of the Mustard tribe, the other two, known by the same common English appellation, are of the Radish race. The first of these, Raphanus Raphanistrum—the wild Charlock, wild Radish, white or jointed Charlock-the Radis sauvage of the French, and Der Acker Rettig of the Germans-is said to be the vagrant and degenerate offspring of the cultured originals brought to our shores by the conquering legions of Cæsar: others declare that the radish was first introduced into this country from China only about 250 years ago. Radishes certainly attain to great size and perfection in "the land of Sinim." I have grown an egg-shaped variety, with a bright pink skin and very white flesh, in a garden I once had on the banks * From the Proceedings of the Cotteswold Club. + Anglicè, Hoe. The root is the Saxon Heawan, to cut. Nast, a generic term for dirt, applied more particularly to weeds. Picking nast, or burning nast, will mean picking couch, burning weeds, &c. The root of this word, though difficult to trace, is not entirely lost. Its primary meaning is that of filth or dirt; a sense preserved in the adjective nasty. It has no substantive form in English. The Swedish has nesa, dishonour, shame; and the Old Norse, neiss, shameful; secondary derivatives from the same root. of the Wong-poo, which reached to an enormous size, without becoming rank, coarse, or stringy, or losing their delicacy of flavour; but I do not see why we should imagine that our cultivated radishes came from the far East; and that even our wild Raphanus Raphanistrum is but a Roman escaped from civilization and fallen in savagery; while Raphanus maritimus-the Sea-charlock, or Searadish a comparatively rare species, scantily inhabiting here and there a cliff or sandy bank on the coast, is the only true native radish, indigenous to our British soil. Bentham is of opinion that our garden radish, Raphanus sativus, is only a variety of the wild R. Raphanistrum. - Mr. Sowerby, in his splendid and unrivalled work, gives us the history of (as well as the tales and legends connected with) all our native plants; and what pleasure and enjoyment are added to our rambles over the wild commons, and to our strolls through the quiet green lanes, by a knowledge of this quaint plant-lore, which he has so laboriously and patiently brought together and placed before us in such attractive shape. He tells us how the homely radish was a classic root, highly esteemed in the brave days of old, when simplicity, frugality, and temperance lent vigour to the life of the stern conquering race, before wealth and sloth, and luxury and sensuality had eaten out the iron heart of the warrior nation: "A Roman meal, Ye gods! what digestions men must have had in the days "intonsi Catonis," what consciences must the Patres conscripti have possessed when, after dining on raw cow-cabbage and vinegar, they could sup on turnip-radishes and cold hard-boiled eggs, and lie down to rest upon their hard beds without fear of nightmare. Even in much later times, when the gluttony and self-indulgence, the ostentation and lavish waste of the noble and great, had begun to alarm the higher-minded and more thoughtful citizens, a stomach that could dispose of "three fat snails (Helix pomatia), two eggs, a barley cake, a lettuce, sweet wine, and snow "for supper, according to the custom of Pliny the younger, must have been tolerably sound. I remember reading, many years ago, of a poorcrazy old woman who wandered about the fields in all weathers, tearing up the Charlock when it began to bloom. Her son, an idle vagabond, who shunned all steady regular work, had managed to live by smuggling and poaching; at last he was tempted to waylay and rob a poor travelling pedlar: he attacked him one wild stormy night as he was crossing some fields by a lonely, unfrequented foot path, striking the old man down from behind with a bludgeon; while rifling his pockets, the moon suddenly appeared from behind a black cloud, and lighted up the robber's features; the pedlar recognized him, and calling him by name, told him that the slow but sure hand of justice would overtake him one day. "You shan't be a witness against me, at any rate, I'll make sure of You; dead men tell no tales: " and the robber became a murderer. "You shouldn't have talked about the gallows, old man," said the ruffian, jeering the dying man ; "where will the witnesses be when you're buried deep down, and the waving corn grows over the place-aha! who'll be your witnesses then, I wonder ?" "These! these!" moaned the victim, tearing up a handful of blood-bedabbled weeds from the trampled earth, and dashing them all wet and reeking in the murderer's face,-"the wild Charlocks that see me die, shall nod their yellow heads at you, and my blood's cry to Heaven for vengeance shall be heard, and the yellow blossoms shall be my witnesses against you as long as the Charlock blooms wild in the cornfields." The wretch trembled as the dank plants struck him, and stained his face; then he dragged the body away and buried it deep down in a newly-ploughed field; and corn was sown and grew up over it, and all trace of the horrid deed seemed to be put for ever out of sight. But the pedlar was missed from his accustomed beat, and people began to talk and wonder if he had met with foul play, and they joked the assassin, and asked him whether the money he spent so freely had been taken from the missing traveller. The spring came round, and the weeds sprang up amongst the but in one lone field there came such green corn; a mass of yellow charlock-weed in one particular spot that the farmer noticed it, and sent men to root it up; but it sprang up again and again, and the guilty miscreant quaked when the neighbours talked about it, and at last he was seen stealing out at night and tearing the rank weeds up. Suspicion was aroused, the soil was turned up, and the body of the missing pedlar was found and identified. The terror-stricken murderer confessed, and told the whole tale; he was hanged, as he well deserved to be; his poor widowed mother went mad with grief; but, unable to realize the actual death of her only child, and with the pedlar's dying cry for ever ringing in her ears, she wandered in the fields tearing up the Charlock, that its golden blossoms might not wag their heads and bear witness against her lost and ruined son. Bury Cross, Gosport. "WHEN Alexander the Great went on his Indian expedition he opened the way for many discoveries. The Ringed Parakeet was soon afterwards brought to Greece."-" Beautiful Birds in Far-off Lands." THE SPARROW BRAWLS. THE social habits of our attached friends the Sparrows, must at this time of year attract the notice of the most unobserving. Like other parasites, they are not long out of sight at any season, but on the approach of spring, every nook around the homestead rings in turn with their squabbles, and there is not a city garden with a shrub in it, which does not re-echo with their eager reproaches. The noise, considering the size of the performers, is wonderful. The greater frequency of these affrays in the spring months leads to the presumption that they arise from jealousy amongst the male birds. But this I believe to be an error. My lot is cast in a large scaside town, and the chief enjoyment I can get of the beauties of nature is derived from a few poplar trees, planted, by necessity, much nearer to my study-window than a country gentleman would think desirable. The necessity, however, like most of the decrees of Providence, is not without advantage. It brings my feathered friends, in whom I delight, under much closer observation. Here, in their season of verdure, the trees are visited by Chiff-chaffs, Willow-wrens, and two species of Titmouse; whilst in severe weather strange visitors are driven down from the hills, such as the Misselthrush, the Blackbird, the Song-thrush, and the Redwing. Redbreasts, Brown Wrens, Hedge. sparrows, and House-sparrows are here at all seasons, and the last fully as, saucy and cunning as any of their tribe. For some considerable time I have been in the habit of watching their conduct, and whenever the first note of discord has arisen, I have noted their proceedings with particular attention. As would be supposed, the actors are one female and several males. The latter, however, are not, as would be expected, contending with one another, but all-excepting one, teasing rather than seriously attacking the hen, who always occupies the centre. One of the male birds does nothing but flounder about in a ridiculous manner, throwing back his head, drooping his wings, and uttering a peculiar chirp, which seems to goad the rest of his sex to frenzy. The female frequently rushes at this lackadaisical performer, and pecks at him with fury. He never returns the blow, but retreats a short distance, whilst one of the males attacks the hen from behind and diverts her wrath upon himself. I have never seen the male birds assail one another at such times. Sometimes their emotion, whatever its nature, is so vehement, that they are all down together in inextricable confusion; but the moment the paroxysm is over, they always act as I have described above. It is the cry of the male bird beginning his singular performance before the female, which instantly summons all the cock-birds in the vicinity to the scene. The first comers dash into the mélée without a moment's hesitation. The late arrivals often take no part in the affair, beyond cheering on the principals with a few sharp notes. At length, as in human squabbles, the absurdity and uselessness of the whole thing seem to strike every one-the outsiders retire, and the chief actors begin to draw off: the lover, if such is his character, performs with less empressement, the lady becomes more indifferent to his "chaff." Agamemnon and Menelaus go off together κατὰ κλισίας τε νέας τε, Paris himself steals away by degrees, and Helen is invariably left quite alone. Such are the facts, as I have witnessed them, over and over again, but their significance is not so easy to determine. It should be remembered that these birds are not polygamous, like ruffs and capercaillies, and domestic fowls, whose desperate combats are intelligible enough. There is no greater provocation to jealousy amongst sparrows than amongst linnets or buntings, which are not in the habit of brawling in this manner. sparrows, indeed, are hardly gregarious in the breeding season; each male bird has his own mate, and the pair bring up their family in as exemplary a manner as many a Christian couple. Nevertheless, there is not one of these staid, business-like characters who is not ready, at a moment's notice, to engage in a furious set-to with his neighbours about one of the other sex, for whom he cares nothing a minute before or after. Moreover, these squabbles are not confined to the spring season. I have witnessed them in every month in the year, excepting during the moulting season. I will not hazard any theory respecting them, content to draw the attention of your readers to the facts of a very curious, however common, phenomenon; the object of which, like the night-crowing of the roost-cock, or the serrated claw of the Fern-owl, is, I believe, very little understood. H. ΟΝ PUPA ENEMIES. N May 2nd, I went to my pupa-cage to look for "fresh arrivals," and was very much "astonished to find the pupa were being carried off bodily by a number of large red ants. Several had been partly devoured, and others injured beyond recovery; but by a prompt and vigorous attack, the pupa were rescued and removed, while the ants were destroyed by a copious douche of boiling water. A little searching revealed the colony, at about three yards distant from the breeding-cage. I stirred them up with a stick, and gave them a dose of the hot water; a thin stream of ants were travelling along the wall, having no doubt been informed of the 'grub" by their relatives. As I keep all my pups out of doors, and exposed to the changes of the atmosphere, such dangers must be risked. I simply place the pupa on the top of a layer of fine sifted mould, mixed with decayed tan and silver sand: as I never moisten them, they do not damp off, and I have lost but few from dry rot. I once covered them over with moss, boiled, according to instructions; but I never saw any advantage derived from it; and as you cannot see how the pupæ are without disturbing it, I have discontinued using any moss for some time. There are a great many other plans for rearing pupa successfully, each of which has its supporters and followers, who of course believe it to be "infallible." I have tried several others, and with more or less success. I should say laying them in bran is perhaps the worst, as then they invariably dry up; cotton wool produced the next smallest percentage of perfect insects. Another enemy of the moth in its pupal state is the Earwig (Forficula); also Cocktail or great Rove Beetle (Creophilus maxillosus), and such "Reptiles." The Rev. Joseph Green, in his valuable little work on "Pupa-digging," says, "I have known a slug crawl in a straight course more than a foot up the side of my cage, to get at a chrysalis, and then feast on it till there was nothing left but the empty skin." He also states that he has seen an earwig eat a soft pupa, and gives an account of his pupa being devoured by a brood of Tinea pseudospretella. Other enemies of the pupa, more especially when at large, are fieldmice, which are fond of soft pupæ. Those who damp their pupa will also suffer losses from mould, which is very destructive to some kinds, especially those which have been moved from the cocoon. It is curious what clusters larvæ will often form, piling the cocoons one above another, till some are not visible. I had last summer in one of my larger breeding-cages, a group consisting of 5 Drinkers (Odonestis potatoria), 3 Oak Eggars (Lasiocampa Quercus), 7 or 8 Lackeys (Bombyx Neustria), 5 Figure-of-8 (Diloba cæruleocephala), 4 Gipsies (Liparis dispar), and a single Tiger (Chelonia Caja). I need scarcely say, I did not leave them to come out in this position, or many would no doubt have been undeveloped. I think I have given a tolerably good list of the various enemies or diseases to which the pupa of Lepidoptera are liable; but if others have been noticed by subscribers to SCIENCE-GOSSIP, I shall be glad to see their remarks. J. HENDERSON, Jun. "ENGLAND is the sister of Holland, but, being more enveloped, I think, in mists, owing to the warm waters of the Gulf Stream, it did not recognize until a later period the grandeur of its maritime horizon."—" Nature," by Madame Michelet. SHRIMPS AND PRAWNS. IT is astonishing, in vulgar classification, how size and colour determine conclusions. Its reasoning is based on just the opposite grounds to those of science. The latter investigates, analyses, wants to know the reason for every organ, rudimentary or otherwise, and refuses to be satisfied with the statement that they are complementary. It has too much faith in the wisdom of the Creator to believe in sports or freaks of any kind whatever. Every organ, whether in use or not, has a meaning; and, if we could get at it, it would doubtless help us to the history, not of the individual merely, but of the species and even genus to which its possessor belongs. Among the common zoological objects with which the public generally come in contact, perhaps no greater ignorance is displayed than in their notions that when they have arrived at a certain size they separate from the older ones, the latter retiring farther from the shore to, return again, however, when they have reached the adult condition. It is only when they have arrived at the latter stage that the fishermen condescend to regard them as true prawns, and to charge for them as such! The tail of the "red shrimp," or prawn, is worthy of notice. It is composed of five plates, capable of being folded like a lady's fan. Each plate is edged with setæ, and when alarmed, by expanding the tail and suddenly striking the water with it, its possessor can drive itself backwards to a surprising distance. It is almost comical to watch this animal investigating a strange locality-to see how gingerly it seems to walk on the very tips of its long feet, and how its swimmerets or paddles are meantime rapidly working beneath the abdomen. It progresses by means of these swimmerets exactly on the principle of a paddle-boat, and uses its tail only to retreat from danger. Another common species of prawn is often sold as a shrimp. This is the Palemon squilla (fig. 105), which resembles the true shrimp even more than of "shrimps." The old adage that all is fish which comes into the net is realized here, for all are shrimps that are sold as such. The only difference recognizable is that some are known as "red shrimps," and some as "brown." The appetizing flavour of these delicate crustaceans is perhaps not conducive to popular examination or dissection other than the stomach requires, or the great difference between the ". "red" and "brown" so-called shrimps would be recognizable at once. In fact, the "red shrimp" is not a "shrimp" at all, but a young prawn! It is known in many places as the Rock shrimp," from its habits. The rostrum, or prolongation of the carapace between the antennæ, is the distinguishing feature of the prawn. In our common species this is toothed like a saw (fig. 104), whence its name of Palemon serratus. Of its two pairs of antennæ, the outer are very long, twice as long as the animal's body. It is only in the young state that this species approaches our shores; but its times and seasons are well known to "shrimpers," and it falls a victim to its littoral curiosity. Bell tells us that in some parts the fishermen consider they drive away the true prawns; but the Professor believes this is due to the fact the foregoing; still you may trace a similar serrated rostrum. The antennæ are not so long, and only the first pair of legs have pincers, whilst in the fore-mentioned species the first two pairs are provided with them. The common shrimp has a simple hook, bent, and springing out of a thickened base. The serratus when adult is four inches long, the squilla attaining only half that length. Two other and rarer species of prawn inhabit our seas, but these are not often sold as shrimps. In Great Yarmouth, however, another genus of crustacean shares the honour with the prawn of being an edible shrimp. This is the Pandalus annulicornis, whose serrated rostrum and long antennæ give it a great resemblance to the serratus. So abundant is it off this part of the Norfolk coast, that its capture provides many fishermen with constant employment. It differs from the true shrimp in occurring at a considerable distance from the shore; hence it goes by the name of the "sca shrimp." The greatest length it attains is two and a half inches. And now for our old, true, and tried friend, which 66 has generously lent the credit of its great name to the species above mentioned-the Crangon vulgaris (fig. 106). Practically it is distinguished from them by its common name of "sand-shrimp," and still brown." Notice its speckled back more as the and body, and you have before you another of those instances of mimicry which naturalists are seeing throughout the animal kingdom. Nothing could more resemble the fine sandy bottom on which it squats, and its protection is rendered doubly sure by the jets of sand it casts up, and which settle down over it and hide it. Here you have no rostrum, but a broad, flat head, on which the eyes are placed at wide mtervals between. The internal pair of antennæ terminate in two short feathered filaments, and the two movable plates outside them, bristling with setæ, distinguish the shrimps at once. The female shrimp carries her spawn underneath her structures of the leaves; and thus the arrangement of the teeth, and the formation of the saws themselves, vary, all making most beautiful microscopic objects. No doubt if we could know for certain the exact structures these various arrangements are intended to divide, our own mechanicians might obtain many valuable hints from studying the saws of these little insects. I have already collected and mounted, during the present season, more than a dozen saws, all perfectly different in Fig. 106. Common Shrimp (Crungon vulgaris). abdomen the whole year round--an occurren ce which you will never find in connection with the socalled "red-shrimp," for the simple reason that the latter is only in a juvenile stage. The spawn is entangled among the "false feet," or swimmerets. There could not have been a better arrangement, considering its habits of burying itself in the sand, than the manner in which the eyes are arranged for seeing on the top of the head. The "brown shrimps" are fond of company, and their antics on a sunny day are very joyous and vivacious. They dart about, and even skip out of the water, in their exuberance of spirits. But they are always found in shallow water, and that where there is a fine sandy bottom. Singularly enough, wherever the true shrimp occurs you get few or no "red shrimps" or prawns, one group invariably replacing the other. J. E. TAYLOR. formation, a few of which I have delineated. They are drawn from nature, with the neutral tint reflector, the -inch objective being used. Fig. 1 is the most remarkable saw I have yet seen; for, besides being beautifully toothed, along its sides are arranged a series of scales placed in rows, the uses of which it is difficult to imagine. Having many times watched the process of depositing the egg, after the requisite incision has been made in a leaf by the insect, I cannot agree with those authors who state that the egg is passed along the saws, which form together a sort of tube for its passage to its destination. The real ovipositor is placed above the saw, and when the egg is being deposited, |